How The Fuck Did You Get Into Our Flat
by Moriarty-Mastermind
Summary: Okay, I can't exactly tell them the whole truth. I can't say that I saw them on a show or that I know how their lives will play out that would just be- that would just be disastrous. I must be in a dream. "I was sitting in my bedroom, when I open the door to my bedroom and POOF!" I make my hands do a little finger flinging, "I'm suddenly here. In your home."
1. Fourteen

_OC in Sherlock world yayyyy!_

_I was at a sort of dead-end for my other story and couldn't get what I wanted into words, but I wanted to write something fun and cliche._

_ This is one of those stories where someone just so happens to be thrown into the world of John and Sherlock ~and that person so happened to have seen the tv show~. It's been a fun first chapter and I may just keep writing._

_Tell me what you think in the reviews :)_

* * *

It was really rather scary, because I had been simply in my room reading some medical textbooks, drinking some coffee when I got hungry and decided to head off into the kitchen. Nothing new, I did that all the time and I saw nothing wrong with it. It wasn't until I opened my bedroom door to see a hallway I didn't recognize,

"What the hell?" I blurted out quietly. I closed my door looked back into my room and took a deep breath before I opened my door again, aaaand it was the same hallway. Alright well this was just straight up weird. Maybe it's one of those psychological mind games where your brain completely forget where you live for a few seconds...but this was more then a few seconds. I was sort of freaking out now- because- well it's not everyday you open your bedroom door to find another person's home. I lightly stepped out of my room and went into the hallway. Something about it seemed similar but I couldn't place it yet. I stepped into the hallway, my coffee mug still in hand started to see what looked like a kitchen. Okay- a kitchen that's what I was going for. Food. Maybe I'm just hallucinating or something I'll figure this out.

I finally make it to the kitchen and turn quickly to a fridge, "Well- isn't this really familiar..." I mutter to myself. I slowly open the fridge hoping to find cheese cubes, or maybe even ham slices that are in my fridge at home only to find- "OH MY MOTHER OF FUCK. WHAT THE HELL?!" My coffee cup falls out of my hand and shatters on the ground. Severed. Fingers. WHO HAS SEVERED FINGERS IN THEIR FRIDGE. Did I fall asleep? Am I in a dream? I turn around to find that I'm not in any home of my imagination. "This- this is _Sherlock's_ home." my mouth suddenly rambles out.

"Yes it is." a deep voice sounded from the living room and I suddenly realize that not only is this Sherlock's fucking home but this is SHERLOCK IN HIS HOME. I look from the kitchen and see Sherlock sitting in his armchair with a book in his hands. I'm frozen and I stare silently into his face, it looks like he's about to speak before I hear the door to the flat open.

Sherlock turns his back towards the book, "You took your time."

"Yeah, I didn't get the shopping." I hear John Watson's voice and restrain myself from speaking. Sherlock is acting as if I'm not here _why is he acting as if I'm not here_.

Sherlock looks over his book indignantly and glances at me quickly before speaking, "What? Why not?"

"Because I had a row, in the shop, with a chip-and-PIN machine."

Sherlock lowers his book title, and I freak out even further because no one is acknowledging me and I do not know what to do, "You...you had a row with a machine?"

"Sort of. It sat there and I shouted abuse. Have you got cash?" It didn't take long before I could see John Watson, his back was facing me and he still hadn't looked towards the kitchen.

I can see Sherlock gold back and smile and nod towards me, "Take my card."

John finally turns around sees me and freezes into a sort of military stance, "Sherlock."

"Yes." Sherlock says as he reads his book.

"Why is there a frightened teenage girl standing in our kitchen."

"Don't know."

John makes a very hilarious face, "Wh- what do you mean you don't know? And she's crying Sherlock- is she a client?"

I didn't even notice I was crying before I brought a hand up to my face and felt the tears, "C- Can you stop acting like I'm not here? A-AND I'M NOT A TEENAGER!" I wasn't. I'm 26 years old and I _look_ 26 years old. Sure I was short but I had rather large boobs and an adult looking face that showed up after I turned about 15 when I finally whipped myself into shape. "Why would you think that?" I wipe my tears and manage to calm myself down, I can't freak out now.

"Well- Sorry to tell you but although I-" John gestured awkwardly to my body, and I looked down at my double Ds"-_acknowledge_ the curves, you look at least six inches shorter then me and you have a young face. I'm a doctor, I know my ages." He shook his head suddenly- "Why does that even matter? Why are you here?" He looks towards Sherlock who is now standing up and looking at the scene with interest, "Sherlock?"

I didn't pay attention to his question and instead opted to try and get back to my room, I go down the hallway and open the door I came from, instead of opening it to find my bedroom I find a linen closet and _damn am I trying to not freak out now._ I pace the hallway.

"What's your name? How did you get in here?" I hear Sherlock ask me as I turn around to see him and John in the hallway.

"My name is Elise- and I don't know." I shook my head and place it in my hands before taking a deep breath. Okay, I can't exactly tell them the whole truth. I can't say that I saw them on a show or that I know how their lives will play out that would just be- that would just be disastrous. I must be in a dream. "I was sitting in my bedroom, when I open the door to my bedroom and POOF!" I make my hands do a little finger flinging, "I'm suddenly here. In your home."

"So you live in the United States?" John suddenly asked me. I then I realized how weird it must sound to them, I'm an American girl (shutup) who just so happens to show up in their home for no apparent reason.

"Yeah. Yes- I live in Boston. I don't know I got here."

"How do you know about us? Few people in London even know who I am- it's not as if every American is well-versed in consulting detectives."

I laugh nervously. How was I going to effectively lie about this? "Uh- I was just sorta on the internet one day I-" I gesture towards John and smile, "Found Doctor John Watson's blog! I was enamored by your case 'The Study in Pink' and I just did some further research and found 221B and Sherlock Holmes! So yeah I just sorta recognized you guys and the place." I smiled awkwardly. I knew that Sherlock wasn't buying any of it.

"What are your parents numbers? Can we call them in Boston." John speaks up, he comes near me and puts up his hand in a '_I'm dealing with a child'_ manner, "Elise, I understand you must be very confused-"

I put up my hand to stop him speaking, "I don't understand what my parents have to do with this. They don't even live in Boston they're down in New Mexico. I can find my way home myself." I'll wake up. I'll wake up and it will be over.

Sherlock scoffs, "You're a teenager. Fourteen to seventeen years old by the looks of it. Of course John would be interested in your parents- and although you are a very good liar I don't take any of your words into consideration- who are you? A runaway? Of to go to London? Meet a _detective_?" Sherlock's tone was mocking. And I felt like pulling my hair out _why does everyone think I'm a teenager._

_"_I'm a **DOCTOR** for fuck's sake. I am**_ TWENTY-SIX YEARS OLD_** and I have my **_MEDICAL DEGREE_**! I may not be able to practice yet, but considering I have the degree- I'm pretty fucking sure I'm not a teenager."

I'm about to speak up more before I finally realize something, I feel different. I legitimately feel _different_. I finally give my body a good look and realize something I have a _tubby tummy_. I feel my arms while John and Sherlock look at me in confusion. _My arms are tubby_. I had _muscles_. I had _abs_ and _muscles_ and_ I got fit when I was sixteen why is all my fat back from when I was younger_. "MMmmmmm." I hum nervously. "Hey before I answer any more questions can I see a mirror?"

"What?" John asks.

"Can I see a mirror?"

"There's one in the living roo- hey!"

I pass by them quickly and glance in the mirror above their fireplace.

"What the fuck?" I look fucking fourteen. I look like I'm my fourteen year old self, I can feel the little pudge on my cheeks as I squish them and I almost don't notice when John puts his hand on my shoulder in a concerned manner, "WHAT THE FUCK?!" I ask him suddenly. He looks slightly startled.

I freak out and start hyperventilating before I feel myself getting light-headed, start losing my balance and I can begin to feel myself falling and everything turns black.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Elise... if that really was her real name was now a girl- a _teenage_ girl who had just collapsed in John and Sherlock's living room. John had immediately got down to his knees and checked her pulse.

"She's fine- I think she just, well, I think she just fainted." He got up and looks at Sherlock with an angry face, "Sherlock, why is there a teenage girl in our flat?"

"I've already told you John, I have no good idea." Sherlock got down and looked at the girl, "She's a contradiction John."

"What?"

"She's a contradiction, deductions so far have proven the fact that although she has a rather developed body she _is_ fourteen years old. Although the way she holds herself would signal the fact that the age she had provided is correct. Which is obviously _wrong_, but interesting nonetheless...I've come to the conclusion she wasn't lying about believing she had a medical degree and was probably delusional. In fact, the reason she fainted was because she was so surprised at her age-"

"Sherlock, just- hold on for a second and help me pick her up and put her on the couch or something she can't just lay here." Sherlock looked angry at the interruption but nodded as they both picked her up and put her on the sofa, "She should be awake by now." John added, "People faint because they're shocked and wake up shortly after...now she's just sleeping." John looked very concerned, "She must have been _exhausted_."

"Stop it with the sentiment John." Sherlock waved his hand and sat down at his chair steepled his fingers and turned his attention towards Elise.

"Sherlock we need to find her family and send her back."

"No!"

"What do you mean no?"

"We can't just leave this mystery. It's _interesting_, John."

John leveled a stare and crossed his arms, "No, Sherlock. We can't kidnap a fourteen year old girl."

Sherlock stared at him for a time, it was a long affair, probably about a minute before Sherlock broke, "Fine. I'll do research and find her family, but before I do can I at least speak to her when I wake her up."

"NO."

"Why?"

"I'm not letting you terrify a fourteen year old girl. No, you do the research about her family _truthfully _and I'll- I still need to do shopping I'll bring her with me to TESCO."

"_John._"

"_Sherlock_."

Sherlock didn't say a word, and the deja vu moment continued before he spoke, "Tell me everything she says when she's with you."

John smiled and went over to wake Elise up.


	2. Cousin

"Elise, Elise wake up." I don't really recognize the voice but I figured it was my roommate. Though she does sound suspiciously like a boy.

"Mmmm..." I rub my eyes, "Jenny- I just had the weirdest dream you have no ide-" And I'm not actually awake am I, "Oh."

"Oh?" I saw John in front of me and I blink once and twice. So I wasn't dreaming, or I was, and I'm still dreaming. Whatever I'll just roll with it.

"Uh. Hi."

"Who's Jenny?"

"She's my roommate."

"Hm." John looks at me, "Do you remember what happened?"

Yes, yes I did, but I didn't want it to be real. I mean it's cool, don't get me wrong, being in 'The World Of Sherlock' was interesting, but I want to leave now.

"Yeah I do. And sorry- for fainting and everything." I put my hand on the back of my head and smiled a little. I finally caught a glimpse of Sherlock who was just staring at me from his chair. I tried to pay no mind to him.

"It's fine, it's fine. Do you still think your twenty-six?"

Oh. Yeah. That, the reason I fainted. I squish my newly chubby arm passingly and sigh, "Well I'm obviously not. At least not physically- but yeah, last time I checked I've been living for 26 years."

John hummed in understanding, "Well, I'm going to Tesco..."

"Tesco? That's like Walmart right?" I felt stupid, but I mean I've never actually been to a Tesco before, so how was I supposed to know.

"Uh. Yeah. I was going to bring you with me, is that fine?" He heads into the kitchen and comes back out holding a sleek black card in his hand. Must be Sherlock's.

Going to the supermarket with John Watson. I knew that after he came back Sherlock was going to get a case- 'The Blind Baker'. Maybe I could tag along, maybe this won't be _too_ bad. And hey- I get to spend time with John right? Why not.

"Sure. That sounds perfectly fine." I get up and look down at my clothes, I was in my pajamas, robe and all, "Hey- Can I have some clothes though?"

"Oh, yes! Yes, of course. I guess I'll just ask Mrs. Hudson."

"Mrs. Hudson?" Might as well play dumb, acting like I know everyone in their lives wouldn't end up well.

"She's our landlady I'm sure she has some spare clothes that might fit you."

"Oh- Well then thank you."

He nodded and smiled, "No problem, follow me." He turned toward Sherlock who was currently leveling us a glare, "We'll be back soon Sherlock."

Sherlock was unsettlingly silent as I started to follow John out the flat and to Mrs. Hudson's. Excitement starts bubbling up in my chest, it was very frightening- but this is was also amazing. Sherlock? John? Mrs. Hudson? I _love_ these characters and it's simply _amazing_ to see them in person.

Didn't take long for us to reach her flat and John started knocking the door of the old lady. He knocked in a very twittery sort of way.

I giggled.

"What?" John asked me.

"Oh. Just- that's a very un-militaristic knock," I put on a fake cheesy British accent, "_Doctor John Hamish Watson, Captain in the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers_." I was chuckling a little, but he just look confused at me.

He squinted his eyes and looked at me, "How do you know that?"

Luckily I was saved from the awkward.

The door opened abruptly and Mrs. Hudson stood in our presence, "Oh, hello John!" She looked at me, "And who is this!"

John smiled, "This is Elise, she's-" He seemed at a loss for words, he didn't know whether or not to say '_Ah yes, a teenage girl who just showed up in our flat, and instead of contacting child services! I'm taking her to Tesco!' _"Ah. She's-"

I smile and hold out my hand to Mrs. Hudson, "I'm Sherlock's cousin. Visiting for a while." I said it very confidently. Confidently enough that I hoped Mrs. Hudson would ignore these three facts-

1. Not from England, American actually.

2. Looked nothing like the Holmeses- I was fucking Latina for God's sake and didn't have one smidgen of English in me. (there was some Irish in there, but that meant nothing)

3. Who in the_ hells _parent's would let someone like_ Sherlock Holmes_ spend time with their child.

John looked at me, then at Mrs. Hudson, then at me, then back, "Yeah. Sherlock's...cousin."

Mrs. Hudson looked confused, and took my hand shaking it very lightly, "Oh. Well- alright. Nice to meet you. What do you need, dear?"

Apparently I was confident enough for her to ignore those three facts.

John was about to speak, but yet again he was interrupted. This time by me.

"John and I were just wondering if I could perhaps borrow a few clothes from you? Perhaps some that you think may fit me?" I looked down at my sleepwear, "I'm sorry, I came here in such a rush and I just don't have any other clothes. "

Mrs. Hudson gave me a kind smile, "Oh, you are so polite! Unlike any of the other Holmes I've met." She smiled at John, "Very adult, isn't she?"

John nodded, "Yes, she is."

Mrs. Hudson looked flustered for a moment, "Oh dears! Come in! Come in! Sorry for leaving you out so long, I'll find some clothes for you dear. Would you like to come with?"

I smiled and shake my head, "No, it's fine. I'll stay out here with John."

"I have some biscuits on the counter. I also have tea I just made, I was about to bring some up to Sherlock and John, but you should take a mug." She waved her hand at me and smiled politely and she heads down a hallway- off to find me some decent clothes for me.

She's a very kind lady, and smart, I'm actually surprised she hasn't asked anything about me being Sherlock's 'cousin'. That's ridiculous. I suppose she just sort of accepted it, I'm sure lots of crazy things happen.

John walks over to the counter as I sit down at the kitchen table, he takes a mug of tea and looks at me, "Want some?" I nodded. He hands me the tea and I take it happily. Once we're both settled he raises an eyebrow at me and speaks up, "So. Sherlock's cousin? Really? Not a very convincing lie factually." He shrugged and gave me a smirk, "It's presentation was very convincing though."

I felt oddly proud...John Watson, the moraled man complimenting me on lying. Not something that happens everyday.

"Thanks." I smiled sheepishly. And took a sip of the hot tea. It was made for Sherlock so it wasn't exactly how I liked it, but they were kind enough to give it me so no point in complaining.

John takes a sip of his, "So since we both know your last name isn't 'Holmes'. What is your last name?" I immediately knew he was investigating me. Of course Sherlock isn't the only clever one, it's not like John's going to ignore anything of relevance. (Opposed to Sherlock's point of view now...well, at least at this point in the series.)

I saw no point in arguing, "It's Camargo." I rightly rolled the r as it was supposed to be, "Elise Juliana Camargo." I also rightly said Juliana correctly, unlike most English speakers who read my name it's not a hard J, it's supposed to sound like an H. Latina remember? I take my pronunciations seriously.

"Huliana? Are you hispanic?" John asked me again. What do you think? I felt like asking him sassily, but I was nicer then that.

"Yeah, I'm half Colombian."

"Ah." He took another sip of his tea and I copied his movements.

"_So_," I said awkwardly, "You and Sherlock been together long?" I didn't rightly remember how long of a time they'd been solving crimes together. I had to test the waters to see whether or not their friendship was developed yet.

He choked on his tea, "_What_?" I was confused, and he composed himself, "Sherlock and I- we're not _together_."

I laughed and snort on my tea, _that's_ why he freaked out. Ohmygod the 'no homo' in this man is strong.

"What?" He asked, as I lost my breath.

I sit up and rub my cheeks, "That's not what I meant!" John looked suddenly embarrassed and I could see him mutter an 'oh.' under his breath, "I meant how long have you been solving crimes together?"

"Not very long, it's only been about a month."

"Mmm" I hummed, "Okay."

We sort of sat in awkward silence for a while sipping our teas when I finally hear Mrs. Hudson come back.

"Well, I have a number of nice things that don't suit me anymore, but I think they'd suit you." She held up a very large amount of clothes. That's old women for you, they have tons of crap they are happily ready to give to young people. I smile and remember my grandma, she was a lot like that.

She sets down the clothes and I get a good look at them, lots of them are dresses. There are also some pairs of shoes that looks about my size. "Thank you so much, are you sure this isn't too much? I may not be staying for that long." I felt bad, I didn't want to take all of it.

Mrs. Hudson shook her head, "No no, it's perfectly fine. See look-" she gestures towards a cerise colored shirt, "This color would suit you very well, I don't wear it." She smiles, "Drains me."

"Alright." I say "I'll just take a dress and a pair of shoes for now though, I'll get dressed. You can keep the rest, I'll happily take them if I need anything later." I stand up and and look at John who's just finished his tea and is looking at me, "I'll go just get dressed." I look at Mrs. Hudson, "Restroom?"

Mrs. Hudson points over towards a hallway, "Two doors down."

"Thank you."

I take a suitable pink dress and black flats.

It doesn't take long for me to make myself look presentable, I had a hairband on my wrist so I just put my brown curly hair back and tried to wash my face in the sink. I stare at my brown eyes for a while and take a deep sigh calming myself before I go back outside and into the kitchen.

John thanks Mrs. Hudson and we both head off to the store. It's a pretty silent time over. By the time we get there I'm pretty much just following John around like a puppy. He's very efficient and gets everything they need from each aisle.

"So, Elise." John picks up a can of beans and inspects it before putting it into the shopping basket, "How did you know I was part of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers? That's not on my blog." He continued to walk down the aisle, "Also...how do you know my middle name? Not even Sherlock knows my middle name.

I was really hoping he wouldn't ask that question, I had convinced myself he forgot about it but _noooo_ he just had to remember.

"I just kind of _know_." I couldn't really think of any other way to put it.

"Tell the truth." He turned towards me and gave a very familiar stare.

"You remind me of my dad."

"What?"

"You remind me of my dad. You're short and mighty like him. Also military, like him. He passed away a few months ago, heart-attack...I really miss him. You remind me of him."

"I-I thought you said your parents were in New Mexico?" He looked concerned, yet again. I already got that look plenty of times when were getting to the supermarket and walking down aisles.

"Well, my mom is. Just sorta came out with it when you asked- he's gone but you still sort of feel like he's still here." I smiled. Sure, I avoided the question by telling him of my dad's death. But hey, it worked and he really did remind me of my dad. He looks nothing like him- but the way John held himself and did things was just so familiar to me. I guess that one reason why I like him so much on the show.

"Your not getting out of the question." He suddenly said.

"I really can't tell you."

"Why?"

"Because- because you won't _believe_ me, okay?" I tugged on my hair nervously, "Sorry."

John looked at me for a few seconds, but then he continued walking and I followed him, "It's fine."

We soon got everything we needed, and I was holding the milk as we went to the checkout machines.

John looked at me.

I looked at him.

"Well are you going to start scanning stuff or not?" I asked. This was going to be funny.

"Yeah- Yeah of course, why wouldn't I?" He took out some lettuce and tried to scan it.

**Beep**.

Good so far.

He brings out the beans and- and ohmygod. John kept trying to scan it and the machine just kept on saying '_Item Not Scanned' 'Item Not Scanned. _

"You gonna yell at it?" I say as he's trying, and failing at using a chip-and-pin machine.

"Oh, _shut up_." The lady behind us gave him a look, "Sorry. Just- sorry."

I start laughing and take the beans from him and scan it. **Beep**. Easy.

I put my hand out towards the basket, "How about you let the adult do it?" He glares at me but grudgingly hands over the basket.

It doesn't take that long, and I easily use the machine. **Beep**. Done. **Beep**. Done. **Beep**. Done.

When I'm done scanning all the items and putting them in their respective bags I put my hand out again, "What?" John asks me.

"The card dumb-dumb."

He smiles at me and hands over the black-card I easily pay for everything. And soon we're headed out of the store.

"You- You're just a _master_ at unmanned checkout machines." He says as we're walking.

"I know. It's a gift really. Learned it since I was young..." I look into the distance dramatically and he laughs.

"Ms. Elise Camargo. Master of the Machine. Current Cousin of Sherlock Holmes." He comes out with.

I laugh, "Oh god- that really was a stupid lie wasn't it?"

"Not too bad. And hey- you have his hair!" He gestures towards my brown locks.

"Guess you could say that, still not enough to warrant _relativity_." Not even sure if I used that word correctly. Not even sure if that was a _proper_ word.

He calls a cab for us to make it back to Baker Street and we head in both giggling.

"Do you think I should keep it up while we're trying to figure all this out?" I ask. I didn't know how long I'd be here, I didn't know when I'd wake up. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be known as 'Elise Juliana _Holmes_'

"Keep what up?" He puts the shopping back down on the cab floor.

"The whole 'I'm Sherlock's cousin' thing?" I wasn't sure. Might as well as the Moraled Man John Watson for advice right?

He shrugs, "Might as well. You've already managed to convince Mrs. Hudson. We can keep it up for now."

I look out the cab window, "Why do you guys always take taxis? Doesn't that cost a lot of money?" I really was curious about it. In the show I always wondered why they didn't just take the subway (or tube, or whatever).

"I don't really know. I took the tube before, but I suppose since Sherlock's been doing it I just caught on." He looked at me suddenly, "Wait. How do you know _that_?"

I knew it because I watched the show. What do you think.

"Just sort of _knew_ it I guess. You have a stack of cash ready on you at all times, no one really does that. Much less in a bustling city where you can get your wallet stolen. I figured that signaled the most likely thing was that you needed it for cab money. The fact that we actually took a cab to get here even further proved my theory. I _deduced_ it." Sure, I knew it because of the show but you have to admit that still could've been a good reason for a deduction. He did have a pretty substantial stack of money. "Thats how Sherlock describes it." I shrugged.

He looked at me for a few seconds, "Hey, this is going to sound strange but- can you do something for me?"

"What is it?" I was sort of confused.

"Just-" He took out his phone for a second and handed it to me, "Tell me what you can tell from this."

"The phone?" Well I could tell a lot. But that was only because of the show- yet again. Should I show off? Should I say I didn't know anything? I really couldn't say because I _wanted_ to show off really badly.

"Yeah. Tell me what you can tell from it, deduce some stuff."

"Okay...but trust me you won't be impressed." Oh Elise you mean, mean girl. You _know_ he will. "Well, it's a gift from your sister." I looked at him in a sort of sorry way, because I felt bad, "From your alcoholic sister."

"And how'd you figure that out?" He was now very interested in me.

I took a deep breath, and in the most accurate way I could said every single deduction Sherlock first made about it, "Sorry for being so truthful, but you did ask." I had to say it at the end. I didn't want to be an asshole.

"That was _amazing_. You're just like him."

"What?"

"You are just like Sherlock. In fact, maybe even _better_." He was smiling really wide now, "You're only fourteen! That's amazing. You even caught the fact it was my sister and not a brother. Oh, that was great. Fantastic. Absolutely _brilliant_."

There was a little pit in the bottom of my stomach, but I smiled anyway and blushed, "Thank you."

We made it to the flat and got out the shopping bags. Running up to the flat. He opened the door and we both headed up the stairs. Sherlock is sitting at the dining table with his fingers steepled looking at a computer. _Johns_. I noted in my head.

We both set down the shopping bags, "Sherlock you won't believe this." John says as we both walk out of the kitchen, he gestures towards me as Sherlock looks up, "She's like a mini you! But nicer. It's fantastic."

"That's impossible John she's nothing like me." Sherlock is now looking at me in the eyes. I'm as confident as can be and I keep my chest up and smile sheepishly.

"No really," John smiles at me, "Do him."

"What?"

"Deduce Sherlock, what can you find out about him."

Sherlock looks at me and I feel sort of frightened, I know a lot from the show but, "I don't think I should."

"Oh no." Sherlock says as he gets up and sets down the computer. "Go ahead." He gestures towards himself and steps towards me. "_Deduce me_." He says it in the most condescending, patronizing, mean tone. I felt so angry all of a sudden. It's like he thinks I'm an idiot.

I walk up to him with my hands tight at my sides, he's over a foot taller then me but I still manage to make myself look big.

I take a deep breath and begin speaking, "Your brilliant. Very brilliant in fact, you process things quickly and are almost always correct. You were raised in a fairly average household. One parent was strictly speaking average, but still intelligent, the other was a genius. Very similar to you in that way, but had much better social graces. Based on that, I assume it was your mother. Raised in a fairly contained household you only had your brother to play with, perhaps a dog too.

Older brother. Smarter than you. You're not jealous of it, there's no point to it why would you be? Your still cleverer then the rest of the world. You had a drug habit when you were younger. I would've thought something to calm your mind down- maybe keep you sane, like marijuana. Nothing too dangerous. But considering your personality you have to go above and beyond. Cocaine?"

He made a twitch, "Yes, cocaine. And looking at your home you probably have the occasionally drugs bust. You're off it now and you're pretty much clean. You still use nicotine patches to enhance your senses and you're trying to overcome a smoking habit now. I'm sure I could come up with a lot more to deduce, but considering most of it is just guessing by that point I'd figure I'd _stop_."

I step back and start breathing a little heavily. I tried to figure out what he'd do next. Would he deduce me now? Rip apart every bit of me? Do it _back_. I restrain the urge to shudder.

"Good." He says.

"Excuse me?" This wasn't what I was expecting at all.

"Good. You got everything correct."

I turned to John who was looking shocked, very shocked, "She was right? All of it?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"You had a dog?" John asks.

I look at John and laugh, "Really. Out of all the things I said and you take the fact that he had a _dog_ out of it." I shake my head, "Oh, John, by the way. One more thing from that deduction string."

"What is it, Elise?"

"You should better password protect your computer."

"Wha-" John walks over to the table looks at the computer and glares at Sherlock. He picks up his computer sets it by his arm chair. He looks flustered by takes a glance at me, "Very good, by the way. Amazing how you can do that."

"I can do it too." Sherlock pipes up.

"Yeah- but she's _fourteen_."

"I did it when I was fourteen."

"She didn't miss it."

"What?"

"She didn't miss the fact that I had a _sister_. Not a brother."

"Wha- _really_?" He looks at me nearly angrily, "How? Where did that deduction come from?"

"I'm like her." I say quickly and quietly...If this was the only way of getting out of this then I would totally reveal it. First time in my life in fact.

"Like her? Like Harry? In what way."

"I'm...gay. Just kind of figured Harry was too, I mean Clara reminded me of myself. The 'xxx'. It was really just a gutsy lucky guess. And considering Harry is also a unisex name I just sort of- came to that conclusion."

Sherlock looked unconvinced, "Fine."

I notice John looking through mail, he glances at a bill, "Need to get a job."

"_Dull._" Sherlock and I both say at the same time. We glance at each other then look back at John.

"Well that was creepy." John sort of awkwardly flexes his shoulders for a moment and looks at Sherlock, "Listen um...if you'd be able to lend me some..." John stops as he realizes Sherlock is in a world of his own.

"Sherlock, are you listening?"

_I suppose it's time for the adventure then._ I think before Sherlock speaks.

"I need to go to the bank."

* * *

_And that's it for this chapter._

_It's also over four-thousand words! Didn't expect that._

_Tell me what you think :)_


	3. Deduction Thief

_The response this has garnered so far has me smiling :) I'm really glad your enjoying it! I suppose this is going to be my first priority story now._

_At least for now, I still want to keep writing 'Not As it Seems'_

* * *

Of course John couldn't let Sherlock suddenly dance out of the flat like I had expected, and like how it was in the show I saw. At the time I was just standing there awkwardly as John started berating Sherlock on just trying to _leave_. When "There's obviously some other things we need to deal with!" And then a fleeting gesture towards me.

"I'm still here you know..." I say as Sherlock starts screaming about criminals and banks.

John silences Sherlock with the wave of his hand and turns toward me, "Sorry. I need to talk with Sherlock alone for a second. Would you mind- going downstairs and waiting? We'll be there really soon, I'm sorry about all of this."

I didn't really want to go downstairs. I wanted to go on an adventure. I nodded anyway and silently headed downstairs.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Elise's footsteps slowly get farther away and soon John and Sherlock are left by themselves.

"Did you find anything out about her Sherlock? Family? I texted you her full name and heritage." John asks Sherlock.

"I didn't find anything." Sherlock had a sort of look on his face. One that says 'I HAVE SOMETHING ELSE INTERESTING. SOMETHING I WANT TO GO TO _NOW_'.

"Nothing? At all?" John seemed unconvinced, he crossed his arms, "You had to have found at least one 'Elise Juliana Camargo'."

"Nobody of relevance. Nobody that fit her description, so of course I researched first name, last name, continually went through all my resources and I simply didn't find anything. Couldn't find parents. No one. There was a Camargo couple in New Mexico but they didn't have a daughter or any other other children for that matter. Nothing fit."

John made a face, "All your resources? Really?"

"If you are implying whether or not I called Mycroft? Of course not. Did I use government databases? Yes, I did. No one. I'm telling you John she's a ghost I can't find her. And _considering_ that development. We should bring her with us- I have a case at a bank. It shouldn't be too dangerous."

"Why not give her to child services? Let her find a home. She's fourteen Sherlock, underage. We can't be waltzing around with her!"

"We can't give her to any type of _services_. She has no papers, no birth certificate... we'd only be put under suspicion. And I'm sure going with us is much better then whatever terrible treatment she'd get in a foster-care system. I mean, look at her!" Sherlock opened the door silently and gestured towards Elise who was currently sitting downstairs singing 'Bohemian Rhapsody' under her breath.

"What do you mean?" John didn't understand.

"She's young and very developed physically John. She couldn't protect herself- there are plenty of bad people in the foster-care system especially those willing to take advantage of a young, vulnerable, and socially beautiful teenage girl like her. I've had a several people come to me about cases like those. Would you really want that to happen John?"

Sherlock could see the mental gears turning in John's head. An inner battle was currently going on.

"Oh, fine! Fine. But your the one who has to deal with the new cousin."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, "Cousin?"

"She told Mrs. Hudson that she was your cousin. We might as well keep the ruse up for now until we figure something out- I understand that it's a stupid cover but she does have your hair and is a genius like you. Shouldn't take too much convincing. We can tell people she's visiting from America."

Sherlock looked at him for a few seconds, "Fine."

John nods at him and Sherlock flips his coat around and heads down stairs.

"BeelZEBUB HAS THE DEVIL PUT ASIDE FOR MEE-_EE-EE. EE-EE-EE!. FOR **MEEEEEE.**" _Elise was doing air guitar and making some notes, on key, but not necessarily good. She turns around and freezes. "Oh. Hi."

.*.*.*.*.*.*

"Oh. Hi." I was at the finale _almost_ done and _of course_ that's when they decide to barge right down here and decide they're ready to go. I was whispering the song at first, but_ come on_ who can _possibly_ sing the ending of Bohemian Rhapsody under their breath. "So I guess you guys are gonna bring me on a case then!" I looked hopeful, "Right? Riiight?" I wiggled my eyebrows and did a 'come at me' hand gesture.

"Yes. You are. And stop it with that idiotic voice of yours. If your a genius, act like one. I can't have an idiot be related to me." Sherlock was already walking out of the door to 221B and I quickly caught up.

"Rela- You told him?" I looked at John who had a faux innocent look on his face. "Oh come on! Now he's going to think I'm obsessed with being like him!" I didn't want people to think that I was like him. Don't get me wrong, the whole genius thing was a plus. I knew I was really smart, not as smart as Sherlock, but still smart. Though, I didn't want to start acting like him- or have any disregard for people like him. I'm going to be a practicing doctor I need to be good with people. I don't want to be _defined_ by _Sherlock Holmes_.

"I don't think you're obsessed with me. You admire me that is obvious, though it goes no further." Sherlock put his hands up and hails a cab.

I guess I'm satisfied with that- it's still sort of annoying though. Sherlock explains vaguely where we're going and what we're doing as we make it to the bank.

We finally make it to the bank and everything is very 'deja vu'.

"When you said we were going to a bank..." John looks around the ridiculously large foyer and I notice Sherlock glancing around.

Observing and deducing I suppose. We head up the escalator and go to a giant reception desk. There are tons of people on phones chatting and it's sort of unsettling how I recognize everything. Sherlock heads over the the reception desk and I can't help but notice the pretty lady, "Sherlock Holmes." He says.

"His office is right down the hall and to the right." She smiles, "He'll be with you shortly." She goes back on her phone and I sort of longingly stare at her. I never really ever took a chance on girls before, I hadn't really been in any sort of relationship throughout my whole 26 years. I suppose it was all sort of taken up by denial and studying. Lots of studying, I wanted to be top of my class. Maybe I could take a chance? Ask for her number? Even if she isn't gay, I might as well try...But of course, at the last moment I realize that I look _fourteen_. Even in a fictional world my dreams are thwarted. I groan and we go down hallway.

"Disappointed at your age?" Sherlock mocks me and I roll my eyes.

"What? She was pretty!"

"Average."

"_Pretty_."

We make it in the office and John glances at us, apparently in his own world while we were speaking, "What are you talking about?"

I wave my hand at him, "The lady at the reception desk was pretty."

"She was alright."

"_Pretty_." God. These people not recognizing pretty people. We only waited a minute or so and I see Sebastian heading over to us, "Dick-head." I say under my breath.

"That choice of wording could fit." Sherlock comments and John just looks confused at both of us as he purses his lips.

Sebastian was the kind of guy I realized, that could truly make you cringe. His ridiculous smile as he heads towards us is very annoying. I didn't like him in the show...but there's something different now. You know those people? That no matter who they are or what you know about them give you a bad feeling? He was one of them. The smile looked so forced and mocking, I hated the guy immediately.

"Sherlock Holmes!" Sebastian says as he holds out his hand and grips Sherlock arm and shakes in a very businessman like manner. And the good type of businessman too- not the ones who give you this light firm handshake and expect you to like them. Sebastian gave a genuine 'let's make a deal' shake, actually clasping with both hands, "Hiya, buddy. How long's it's been? Eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?"

Sherlock poorly hides his dislike for the man and gestures towards me, "This is my cousin, Elise Holmes." He then slowly moves his gaze towards John, "This is my _friend_, John Watson."

Sebastian looks at me, "Another Holmes, hm?" He holds his hand out to shake my hand but I don't say a word. I don't take any time hiding the dislike on my face. Sebastian looks at Sherlock, "Just like you, eh?" Sebastian laughs and looks at John now, "Friend?"

"Co-" I nudge John as hard as I can without making it too obvious because _don't be an idiot John_. He glances my way, and I really hope he gets the point. "Yeah- I'm his friend. Work with him on cases." John smiles at the way Sebastian looks taken back and I notice Sherlock has a gleeful look in his eyes. I knew that I could fix some things when I was here.

"Right." Sebastian takes John hand and shakes.

"Right." John says.

Sebastian regains his confidence and starts speaking again, "Well, grab a pew. D'you need anything? Coffee? Water?"

Sherlock shakes his head.

"_No_." John and I both say at the same time.

"No? Well we're all sorted here." He sits down at his desk and John and Sherlock sits down beside him and I sort of stand awkwardly. Noticing that there are only two seats.

"Ah? Is there anywhere else I can sit?" I look around.

"Why don't you wait outside sweetheart I think the adults can deal with this here." Okay that's fucking shitty as fuck. I fucking hate him, I'm about to speak up and rip into this guy when Sherlock speaks up.

"No. She's vital. Take the chair outside Elise." Sherlock looks at Sebastian who just sort of nods, "So, you're doing well. You've been abroad a lot."

"Well, some." Sebastian says. I shuffle a chair inside and move it near John. I sit down and manage to make myself look like apart of the conversation.

"Flying all around the world twice in a month?" Sherlock seems satisfied with his deduction. John frowns in confusion but Sebastian laughs and points at Sherlock. _Dick_. I think again- probably the most times I've thought that word in a single instance. Considering I'm a lesbian and all.

"Right. You're doing that thing." The Dick looks at me and John, "We were at uni together. This guys got a trick that he used to do."

"It's not a trick." Me and Sherlock both say at the same time. I've be doing that a lot lately. But fuck it.

Sebastian ignores us and goes on speaking, "He could look at you and tell you your whole life story."

"Yes, I've seen him do it." John looks at me, "Seen her do it too." I didn't expect that part of the conversation.

"Holmes genetics, I suppose!" Sebastian laughs again, "Put the wind up everybody. We hated him." I look at Sherlock who really looks hurt... But maybe he's just observing Sebastian's watch. I can't tell anymore. "You'd come down to breakfast in the Formal Hall and this freak would know you'd been shagging the previous night."

"Well, I mean he's a genius. Really good at observing things!" I pipe up loudly, "I could imagine you all being so jealous, considering he's so much smarter then all of you." I laugh lightly, "People are always ready to jump at the chance at messing with others when they feel vastly inferior." John and Sherlock both look at me. And Sebastian is quieter now.

I could see him trying to regain himself, his voice is a little bit less confident now as he speaks, "Two trips a month, flying all the way around the world – you're quite right. How could you tell?" He asks Sherlock. Sherlock's about to answer but- "You're gonna tell me there was, um, a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manhattan."

"No I..." Sherlock speaks but Sebastian speaks over him. Obviously trying to regain control.

"Maybe it was the mud on my shoes!"

Sherlock looks at him with a very flippant air of confidence, "I was just chatting with your secretary outside. _She_ told me."

And there's the bomb. I smile really really confidently and John looks confused. We both know he didn't speak to the secretary but _damn_ I love seeing that look on Sebastian's face.

Then we finally get to business. The rest of it is a bit boring really. Yeah break in, yeah didn't steal anything, they left a message. I was just sort of tagging along by then. This was my least favorite episode in the series. It was still very interesting watching it in person. He shows us security footage and such. Sebastian offers Sherlock money and Sherlock says no but John takes it anyway. Blah, blah, blah Sherlock looks like a ferret jumping around and observing things. And then we're finally making it back to the escalators.

"Two trips around the world this month. You didn't ask his secretary; you said that just to irritate him." John looks at me too when we're going down, "You too. That whole comment about him being 'vastly inferior'."

Sherlock smiles, and I smile too, "He was being a dick. I had to do something."

"Well good on you." John says, he then turns his attention to Sherlock, "How _did_ you know?"

"Did you see his watch?" I say. Sherlock looks at me curiously.

"His watch?" John asks.

Sherlock beats me to the punch this time, "The time was right but the date was wrong. Said two days ago. Crossed the dateline twice but he didn't alter it."

"Within a month? How'd you get that part?"

I decide to beat him again, hey, I like being smart this is a unique experience, "The brand New Breitling. It only came out this February." I say flippantly.

John nods, "I hate how I appear to be the least intelligent person here."

"Sorry." I say. I didn't mean to make him feel that way at all.

"No it's fine...So d'you think we should sniff around here for a bit longer?"

Sherlock speaks, "Got everything I need to know already, thanks." John 'hmms' questioningly, "Why don't you say Elise? As you already are so confident in your deductions. And insist on being competitive."

I'm sure he expected me not to know. But of course I do. And I've watched Sherlock more then five times in a row. Why wouldn't I remember?"

"I didn't mean it like tha-"

"Yes you did."

"Oh, fine." I say defeatedly then speak up more, "The graffiti was some type of message for someone at the bank working on the trading floors. If we find who it was meant for then..." I sort of broke off allowing John to finish the sentence. Just like the original show.

"... they'll lead us to the person who sent it." John says with realization.

"Obvious." Sherlock pipes in.

We continue to go out of the very large bank. And Sherlock explains how 'Van Coon' was the person who was meant to see the message. We get a taxi and make it to a block of flats. Blah, blah, blah deduction deduction deduction. I'm actually getting kind of bored. Because everything is literally the same. I expected more to change when I actually went with them but everything pretty much ended up the same. Sherlock flirts his way into the flats and he uses the balcony to get into the home, letting us in. The police are called and soon they're flooding into the flat.

"D'you think he'd lost a _lot_ of money? I mean, suicide is pretty common among City boys."

"Well I mean it's not a a suicide. He was killed." I said. I wanted to be more involved, I wanted to change certain events just so that it wasn't so _boring_.

"Come on. The door was locked from the inside; Sherlock had to climb down the balcony."

"She's right." Sherlock comments. "Look at the case. There was something tightly packed inside it." John and Sherlock continue to chat about it and soon Sherlock comes to the conclusion that the man was being threatened. They find the black origami flower, _it's actually kind of pretty_ I think as I see them bag it up.

"There's also the really obvious bit." I pipe in, "I figured you'd notice John I mean you're left handed. So am I."

"What?" John asks. But before I can answer I see DI Dimmock heading our way.

"Ah, Sergeant. We haven't met." Sherlock offers his hand to shake but Dimmock doesn't take it.

"Yeah, I know who you are; and I'd prefer it if you didn't tamper with any of the evidence." He looks at John and then me, "Who's she?"

"My cousin. Consulting on the case." Sherlock comments casually, "I've phoned Lestrade. Is he on his way?"

Dimmock looks at Sherlock particularly sassily, "He's busy. _I'm_ in charge. And it's not Sergeant; it's Detective Inspector. Dimmock." He then points at me and says forcefully, "And _she_ can't be here. How old is she? Underage? She can't be here. Even if she is your cousin."

I walk up to him and smile, "Oh don't worry I just turned eighteen. And I really am a vital element to their team." I'm trying to be as polite as I can. I understand Dimmock's point of view. I don't look twenty-six anymore and bringing someone fourteen years old into a crime scene is ridiculous, "I'm sorry for the trouble, but I really am helping. "

Dimmock looked like he was starting to understand, "Okay...But don't tamper with any evidence!"

I nod, "Absolutely. I would never compromise the crime scene like that." DI Dimmock seems satisfied with me. I continue to smile politely until he turns his attention back to the crime scene.

"We're obviously looking at a suicide." Dimmock says. I don't feel bad for him thinking that, I mean I probably would have come to the same conclusion if I didnt have the foreknowledge. However, because I do, thinking of this as anything other then a murder is ridiculous to me. I purse my lips as John speaks.

"That does seem the only explanation of all the facts."

"Wrong. It's one _possible_ explanation of _some_ of the facts." Sherlock says. At this moment I knew he was going to be rude to Dimmock, "You've got a solution that you like, but you're choosing to ignore anything you see that doesn't comply with it." I suppose that I'd stop him when he starts ranting of all the things about how the victim was left-handed. Even though DI Dimmock was fairly compliant when it was only Sherlock and John around. Dimmock now has me, a young girl, (claiming to be eighteen) who he can throw out of the crime scene at any moment. I didn't want to take chances.

"Like?" Dimmock says.

"The wound was on the _right_ side of his head." Sherlock says it with a bit of irritation.

"And?" Okay by now I actually probably would have understood. But Dimmock of course doesn't and he's suppose to be _Detective Inspector._ No wonder Sherlock can't help but call people idiots.

"Van Coon was left-handed." Sherlock does the little mockery of him trying to shoot himself in the head with the right hand, "Requires quite a bit of contortion."

"Left handed?" Oh Dimmock you poor soul.

"Oh, I'm amazed you didn't noti-" And I think it's time to make him shut up now.

"Well it's something that's easy to miss." I interrupt Sherlock, "This really does look like a suicide- but it's understandable to not notice some of the details. I mean I'm left-handed so I got some of it. The coffee mug handle is on the left, the coffee table is on the left, the left power sockets are the ones that are used, pen and paper is on the left side...I mean once you see it of course it's obvious but it's hard to notice right away." I smile at Dimmock who nods.

Sherlock seems put off by being interrupted in the middle of deductions. But I just wanted to be nicer about it- I mean Sherlock can be a dick sometimes to people.

"But the gun: why..." Dimmock is still confused, it's not like he knew about the message left at the bank.

"He was sitting here waiting for his killer, because he'd been threatened." I supply helpfully.

"What?" Dimmock asks.

"Today at the bank. Sort of a warning." John pipes in.

"He fired a shot when his attacker came in." Sherlock says, very quickly, obviously trying to beat me to the punch.

"And the bullet?" Dude. What do you think.

_"It went out that window.""Went through the open window." _Me and Sherlock say it at virtually the same time. I glance at him and smile, he just give me a glare.

"Oh, come on! What are the chances of _that_?!" I understand it sounds crazy Dimmock, but come on, say with us here.

"Wait until you get the ballistics report. The bullet in his brain wasn't fired from his gun. I guarantee it." Sherlock says. There you go hun- he can rely on the info when he gets it.

"But if his door was locked from the inside, how did the killer get in?" Very good question Dimmock.

"Good! You're finally asking the right questions." Sherlock says it very condescendingly and then he flounces out with a dramatic fluttering of his coat.

"Well I mean you asked the question." I shrug. John gives Dimmock an apologetic smile and we both go flouncing out as well to follow the ridiculous drama queen.

"So guys! What's shakin now?" We're heading down out of the flats and Sherlock glances at me.

"I'd rather you not do that anymore." He says flatly.

"Do what?" John asks.

"Yeah." I say, "Do what?"

"Sugar-coat my deductions in order to garner trust of others. In order for people to be truly effective the information must be presented to them in a cold efficient matter."

_Okay Sherlock, you're being a dick now,_ "Okay Sherlock, you're being a dick now. Whoever said they were your deductions? And that you own them in some way? We both thought of them at the same time and I said essentially the same thing you would have said, but in a more tactful way. Sugar-coating is not what I did.

Sugar-coating would be saying that a suicide _could_ have been correct. And that my information _may, _be wrong. Did I ever allude to that?

And no actually, getting people's trust isn't a completely stupid thing to do. I didn't want this man to throw me off the crime scene, or get a bad impression of me. Depending on how long I might be staying, I could be going to a lot of your crime scenes. Getting a good first impression isn't some useless thing. Would you rather have me by your side? Helping you occasionally and making sure you can start figuring out who I am and get me home? Or do you want me to sit in the flat all day, and possibly run away off to find out things on my own?"

"She's right Sherlock," John says as we stand in the hallway, "She is actually pretty helpful and there's no reason for you to be angry at her."

Sherlock's stopped in the hallway his back to us, he turns and looks at me, "I understand. Being sentimental and kind is a weakness you can't help having...Now let's not waste time and go."

And I accept it as the closest thing to an apology I would ever get from Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

_There's the chapter :) And God was it hard to write. I really really don't like the Blind Baker. I'll probably finish up the rest of this case really, really quickly in the next chapter. What with Soo Lin Yao and everything...I'll pretty much just skip to the good parts instead of going through all the dialogue._

_Thanks for reading. Tell me what you think._


	4. Emotions

_Hi! I am so sorry for the long wait. I sprained my thumb and was unable to type for a really long while. I'm finally healing up now though and I tried my best to get back into the game._

* * *

**Present**

I wasn't sure exactly how I ended up like this. My eyes felt fairly crusty as I opened them- I brought my hand up to my face and rubbed. And _oh God_ my head is _killing_ me. I groan and everything hurts, I feel like I've been ripped in two, it hurts so much. I finally take in my surroundings and realize I'm in a hospital. My brain is trying to figure out multiple reasons why I would be here. And then I finally remember. Oh. Yeah- huh I got shot in the back. I look down and realize there's a pretty well to do dressing covering my back and my chest. I take in the smell of the hospital and wonder how I can actually be hurting like this. If I'm in a dream- how can I get hurt like that?

Then I notice the man in the corner of the room. John Watson, he's in a chair with his arms over his chest sleeping. Why would he be here? He's only known me for a day- and speaking of days how long have I been sleeping? How much further did they get into the case?

And most importantly...Is Soo Lin alive?

"Jo-" My voice comes out extremely croaky. I clear my throat again and say it louder, "John! John wake up!" I see John turn in his chair and his eyes snap open.

"Elise! You're okay- oh thank God." He rushes to my side and quickly put his hands on my forehead and looks at the machine that shows all my vitals, "You can't- You can't just do that okay! You could have gotten yourself killed! You stupid- stupid!" He's pacing and he looks angry at me.

"Is Soo Lin, okay? Is she alive?" I ask.

.*.*.*.*.*.

**Past**

It's the past. Not so long ago. I'm stuck with Soo Lin Yao in the restoration room. Gun shots are ringing out and the faint sounds of Sherlock yelling and John yelling are muffled in the other rooms.

"He'll find me." Soo Lin says. "He'll find me and kill me, you must leave before then."

"No." I brings my hand to my face and look at Soo Lin seriously, "You will _not_ die." I notice that gun shots have stopped and I know it's going to be a short amount of time until Soo Lin's brother comes here. If I yell now I can put John in danger, I can put my self in danger and Soo Lin. I'm terrified and I have no idea what course of action is best.

Soo Lin is standing up and looking around, "You must leave, you must I can't have your death on my hands."

"I'm not leaving!" I can't leave. I can't I need to stay- I need to save a life I _can't_ let her die.

I see a man come out of the shadows and looks at his sister with pain in his eyes. She brings her hand to touch his face and I start yelling.

"JOHN! _JOHN_!" John was closest to the restoration room, I needed to get him here now. "**_JOHN_**!" The siblings pay no mind to me as I scream and scream and hope that John hears me.

He brings up his gun and I don't know why I did what I did from there. I jumped straight in front of Soo Lin and end up knocking the gun in the process. I hear a sharp ping and I tumble to the ground. Then I feel sharp pain spread throughout my back and I scream- oh I scream because it hurt so much. I fall on my chest.

I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I say it over and over in my mind. Everything hurts so much and I can see blood pooling around my eyes and I see John running towards the restoration room and Sherlock come soon after. My thoughts aren't as clear after that because the pain isn't bearable.

.*.*.*.*.

"Somebody call an ambulance!" John yells to anyone, anyone at all. Soo Lin has her hands pressed up against Elise and is putting as much pressure as she can. "Sherlock! Give me your coat, we need to put more pressure on the wound." John has made it to Elise's side and is looking into her eyes, "Elise, Elise do you hear me?"

Sherlock has made it to John and he gives the goat to Soo Lin Yao who put it over the wound, "I never expected-" Soo Lin shakes her head, "I told her to leave, I never expected her to try and save me I didn't-" She looks at Sherlock and John, panicked, "Is this my fault? Will she die?"

"She won't die!" Sherlock says suddenly. "I called the Lestrade, who's contacted an ambulance, there's a hospital close to here it should arrive in two to three minutes."

"She's going to go into shock, Sherlock." John looks at Elise who's eyes are darting around, "Elise, stay with me, please."

"I- I-" Elise is stumbling on her words and she's breathing rapidly, "This can't happen. This isn't suppose- supposed to happen." She's breathing hard, "This- this isn't even real."

"Elise, don't talk. You're only causing further harm to yourself." Sherlock's voice cuts in quickly. Elise only laughs and suddenly she's silent and breathing rapidly on the ground.

"Sherlock we can't move her to get proper circulation of blood, we need to prevent hypothermia. You need to hug her."

"What?"

"Your body is warm! Keep her warm! She's losing blood, and that means she's losing heat." John points to Soo Lin, "You keep the pressure on the wound. That's our main problem right now, finding a source of bleeding." He's taking Elise's heart-rate, "And make sure she doesn't move around too much. Sherlock!"

"What?" Sherlock is currently trying his best to cover Elise with his body.

"Is there an exit wound?"

"No. The bullet ricocheted off the metal table, there wasn't enough force for it to exit."

"Good, that means this is the optimal position for her to be in."

By then there's little talking. Elise is passed out and the ambulance finally comes, John is rushing to the paramedics and talking quickly about her condition.

"She's going through hypovolemic shock, she needs to be treated immediately. She might need dopamine to increase blood pressure- but the immediate course of action is to just give her more blood. I don't know her blood type, so give her O negative. We did everything we could, and tried to stop the source of the bleeding, but it seems like the bullet must have lodged some place. Hypothermia is not our main issue, but I've accounted to that as well." He continues to rattle off spews of medical information. They manage to take her out of the building and bring her to the ambulance. John gets into the ambulance with her and leaves Sherlock with Soo Lin Yao.

The police are rushing onto the scene as well, along with Lestrade who's quickly heading towards Sherlock.

"What's happened Sherlock? You told me someone was shot? Who?" Lestrade looks fairly panicky and he looks around quickly, "Where's John?"

"It wasn't John." Sherlock says, "It's Elise." He looks fairly emotionless, his face is stoic and he's looking at his hands and observing the blood. Soo Lin Yao has already been torn away from the him and is being interviewed by other detectives.

"Elise?" Lestrade looks at Sherlock, who's eyes look like they're about to glaze over, "Sherlock?" Sherlock's not responding, "Sherlock!"

"What?" Sherlock looks up, the blood on his hands is starting to crust into his fingertips.

Lestrade grips Sherlock's arm and silently leads him to a chair, he snaps near Sherlock's eyes and looks at the blue marvels intently, "Who is Elise, Sherlock? What did she mean to you? How bad is it?"

Sherlock sits up and starts speaking, "Elise is my cousin. She means little to me- as I've hardly known her a day, very intelligent girl. A genius like me. Her wound is serious, she was bleeding profusely by the time she went with John into the ambulance. The bullet ricocheted off a metal table inside and managed to hit her in the back, I haven't gotten any information from Soo Lin Yao yet, but deductions prove that Elise must have jumped in front of the bullet. There's a high risk of her dying on the way to the hospital. Stupid, _stupid_ girl."

Lestrade nods, "So...who shot her? Can you give me her full name? Address?" Lestrade is looking concerned. Even though Sherlock said that he cared little for his cousin, it definitely seems like having her bleed out in front of him has left a lasting impression.

"Zhi Zhu. The spider- her information means nothing she's an adult." Sherlock waves his hand off into the distance and quickly stands up, "Where's Soo Lin Yao?"

"What?"

"Soo Lin Yao! The women who just nearly got shot! The one that let _Elise jump in front of a bullet and **most probably**_** _got her_**_** killed**._" Sherlock was pacing around, "Where is she? She was about to give me the solution to the cypher! What did your _stupid_ policemen do with her?"

"Sherlock, calm down, I'll find her." Lestrade puts up his hand in Sherlock's direction and heads into a crowd of cops.

.*.*.*.*.

"What's her name?" The paramedics are pressing on Elise's back as they race to the hospital.

"Elise. Her name's Elise." John manages to mumble it out and he can't help but feel the fear rising up in his stomach. He's seen these kinds of things before as an army doctor...The chances of survival are slim at best. They can't do anything now- not in an ambulance- the only way to save her is to find the source of the bleeding and stop it.

"Blood type?" They need to ask these questions. Of course they could give her the universal donor but if you do know the blood type it's better.

"I don't know." John puts his hand on his head and looks down at the floor.

"Does she have any emergency contacts?"

"I-" He hesitates. Should he say he didn't know? Because he didn't. The only way they would let him stay in the hospital is if- "I am."

The medic gave a disbelieving look but nodded anyway.

The rest of it went along quickly. By the time they got to the hospital John was ultimately terrified. Elise had gone in to V-Fib because of the loss of blood and when he started heading into the operating room he was stopped.

He was now sitting alone in a cold waiting room. Not once in his life had he ever thought he hated hospitals, because he didn't. He hated medical tents and dust and lack of supplies...Hospitals were safe. Hospitals let him know that everyone had all they need- everything was sterile and clean. Now however he couldn't help but glance at the doctors and wonder if they really knew what they were doing. Or if the man doing the surgery was properly sterile- or if any of it was safe.

He phone started buzzing in his pocket, and he was about to go get it before he glanced at the blood on his shirt, _Elise's blood, _he thinks. He shakes himself out of it and opens his phone with glancing at the caller ID.

"Hello?" His voice sounded oddly disconnected from his body.

"John, Soo Lin Yao is dead."

.*.*.*.*.

**Present**

John is silent. I don't like the look on his face.

"Is she okay?" I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. "Please tell me she's okay- I need to-" My voice cracks, "I need to know I saved her. I need to know I changed fate."

"She's- She's in a protective program in the United States."

And then it hits me. A wave of dread comes over me- I look at him and I know he's lying. I've seen it before and I remember the words he said to Sherlock when he thought Adler died. A protective program. That's- That's absolute crap.

"I know."

"What?" John's voice is small now.

My voice is devolving into something mean, "I can tell. _When. You're_. **_LYING!_**" I crack at the end and break down, "What's the point of it John?" I look at him and he's staring at me with a painful look, "What's the point of me being here if I can't save anybody? If I can't make a difference then why have I been _thrown_ here? I don't want to _live_ in constant fear that I won't be able to _stop the death_."

"How did you know I was lying?" He's calm.

"Your tells are obvious." I feel quiet now, like I've been hollowed out, "How far are you in the case? How long have I been here?"

"It's been a little over a day. We've found out that the cypher is based off a book and Sherlock is looking at tons of books now."

"London A to Z, NINE MILL FOR JADE PIN DRAGON DEN BLACK TRAMWAY."

"What?"

"That's the cipher, I had a pretty long time to think while I was here sleeping."

"Are you telling me-" he took a surprised pause and ran his hand through his hair, "Wait- are you telling me...You figured out the cipher...While fucking _sleeping_?"

Well that shocked me. Hearing John Watson curse so suddenly.

I look at him seriously, "Yeah- yes I did."

"Well- I have to call Sherlock then. Wow- wow that's...that's astounding." He smiled and went outside to use his phone.

I feel a pang of guilt. It's only because they need the information. That's it- I have to tell them what I know because I need to save people. I can't let any other people die...that's it. I can't tell them it's foreknowledge because then they won't believe me. I constantly reassure myself as I see John rattling on the phone. God, did this make me feel horribly ego-centric.

John walks into the room and stands next to my hospital bed, he has a content look on his face, "Well, you should just rest up...Me and Sherlock are going to go ahead and deal with the case. You are truly remarkable Elise, truly." He puts out his hand and brushes a strand of hair from my face. He then walks out of the room and rushed down the hallway.

"I'm sorry." I say quietly.

.*.*.*.*.

**Past **

"John, Soo Lin Yao is dead."

Sherlock told it to John with a cold finality. He heard slight breathing on the other side but no response.

"John?"

_"So she'll die for nothing."_

Sherlock didn't know how to respond. Truth? Lies?

"That's of no importance now. I need to find out the cipher on my own. The stupid Scotland Yard didn't do their job and managed to lose sight of Soo Lin. She then managed to-"

_"I don't care Sherlock."_ The line went dead.

Sherlock glanced at his phone. Emotions. They'd known her for less then a day- why would John feel any sympathy? There was nothing they could have done to save her. And although the statistics were rather low there still was a slim chance she would survive. Isn't that what hope is? The detective continued to consider logic and push down whatever few emotions he felt, but he couldn't help the twisted knot in his stomach.

He was currently in St. Barts looking at dirt specimens, and any sort of evidence that could possibly lead him to an answer. He examined Soo Lin's body after she had been shot by her brother when the Yard lost track of her. He had all the information he needed so far. All he needed to figure out was the cipher- that _damn_ cipher. He slammed his hand on a metal table and heard a little gasp. He looked up and saw Molly, dismissed her, and looked down again at specimens.

"I heard one of your friends got shot." Her voice was small and concerned.

"She wasn't a _friend_. I hardly knew her."

"Oh." Molly wrung her hands, "A _she_."

As much as he acted like he didn't understand Molly, Sherlock knew she had a sort of crush on him. And he knew what she was implying now.

"Molly- she was a fourteen-year old girl. Unless I've suddenly become interested in relationships- much less become a _pedophile. _Then I don't believe the fact she was female _matters_ much."

Molly squinted, "No- no that's not what I-" she brushed her hair back, "Sorry." She started to walk away but stopped mid-step, "Wait. Why did you have a teenage girl with you on a case?" She shook her head, "Nevermind- sorry. It's none of my busine-"

"She was my cousin and was in my care."

"Oh. If- if you need anything...If you need any help, or have to talk to anyone- I'm always here." She walked out of the room and Sherlock sighed in a curiously human way.

_Emotions_.

* * *

_I know this is a fairly short chapter for the long wait, but I figured it's better then nothing. So sorry again! Tell me what you think!_


	5. Not Again

I have been stuck in this horrid place for what I believe to be a little less then a week (five days? Maybe.). It seems like Sherlock and John have done little to provide me with any sort of good living space so I've been sleeping in John's bed while he takes the couch. I protested many times saying that I would take the sofa but he just shook his head and told me I was healing from a gunshot wound. Whatever- who cares about a gunshot wound I'm _inconveniencing_ John. Speaking about a gunshot wound, I found out in my time at the hospital that the bullet was stuck in a part of my liver. The bullet and the little piece of liver was removed and now it's slowly regenerating back to health. I couldn't help but think I was really lucky- to think that the one major organ it hit it was the one that could regenerate.

John's been helping me move things, getting things for me, and even helping me up throughout the day so that I heal correctly. I think it's sort of stupid but he's been insisting on it and I didn't want to argue. I'm kind of surprised they haven't sent me to any sort of home yet, but it seems like considering the lack of information on my identity they've decided to 'keep' me so to say. I'm also rather surprised Mycroft hasn't shown up at all in any capacity. I expected after the whole 'me getting shot' fiasco he'd be on his way over here to see the girl who was in his brother's company during the dangerous event.

I remember casually asking about _'where's your brother now Sherlock'_ at some opportune time. He had just shrugged and said _'being the government'_.

Currently I have just awoken, laying in John's military room. Very neat and precise. I look up at the white ceiling and I'm just going over certain days events in my head. I'm wondering how my mom is doing. I'm wondering how my roommate is doing. I miss my home. I turn around and glance at the little alarm clock over on John's bedside table. **6:14** it's probably time for John to be getting ready to go to surgery. Just yesterday he had finally decided to go back to work and let me be alone with Sherlock. Apparently, John had been terrified to leave me alone- believing that Sherlock would do some insane experiment on me. I had explained I could take care of myself and that if I needed anything I would use Sherlock's phone to call him. He had nodded gravely and grudgingly accepted.

Realizing I probably wouldn't be getting much extra sleep. I rubbed my eyes and got myself out of bed. I went and looked into the little mirror that John had above his dresser, my hair was a really insane mess. Dark brown curls stuck out of random places and knots were evident in some parts of my hair. I tried to flatten it down a little, hoping it would do something but to no avail. I looked down at my pajamas, Mrs. Hudson had happily washed them for me, and Sherlock had offered one of his silky robes. I had happily accepted and now this blue silky robe engulfs me and I take the little ties at the end and tie it around my waist. I nod at the mirror and head out into the hallway, the robe dragging behind me.

I head into the kitchen and see Sherlock standing over a little Bunsen burner with a severed ear in hand, "What's up Sherlock, what experiment are you doing?" I casually stroll past him and open the cabinet where I know the mugs are.

"I'm testing how long it takes for earwax to melt out of an ear at 38 degrees Celsius from a constant heat source." He says it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world and I nod lightly as if I understand why he's doing that and try and reach for a mug.

"Ah!" I grip my back in pain. And cringe- I keep forgetting how bad it is in the morning.

"That's not very smart of you. Reaching for a mug like that gives unnecessary straying against the back." I notice little bits of earwax drop out of the ear and he quickly sets it down glances at a timer and writes something down on a notepad. He then turns off the burner and with arms longer then I can ever conceive gets a mug and hands it to me.

"Thank you. That was unnecessarily nice of you." I smile at him and he rolls his eyes.

"I don't want John nagging me because you've ripped your sutures. It was purely selfish in intent." Like everything he says, he makes it sound like the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, alright sure Sherlock." I head over the to the counter and pick up a little instant coffee mix, I then head over a little kettle that was left on the stove and feel the heat resonate from it. I guess John or Sherlock must have made themselves tea or coffee recently. I then prepare my bucket of caffeine and put at least ten big scoops of sugar into it and head into the living room where I plop down in Sherlock's chair. "So I'm assuming John's already at work."

Sherlock is scanning over his earwax notes, "Yes."

"_Soooo._ Are we doing anything today? Got any cases? Hm?" I take a little pause and wait for an answer but he doesn't say anything, "Will I get to meet your brother. I want to meet your brother. Come on- he has to see his cousin." I expect to see Mycroft soon considering I expect The Great Game case to start soon. I remember reading it was just around this time. I don't even know what the date is- Late March or something? "Yo Sherlock- What's the date?"

"Deleted it."

"You deleted the date."

"It's not particularly useful."

I make an exasperated sigh and sip on my coffee while sulking. I'm so bored. So bored. I swear to god everything is going to fall down around me I am dying of boredness. "Sherlock I'm _booooorrred_. Do something to help me not be bored. John talks to me- we watch the TV but _noooo_ you just have to sit around writing about earwax. Can I help or something? Anything?"

"I'm going to Minsk soon. I'm looking for a case and a Berwick wants to meet with me."

"Where's he?" I rattle my mind about who he's talking about. Was it the bad grammar guy? Maybe. Sounds familiar. _Minsk_.

"He's incarcerated. Claims he didn't kill his lover."

"Cool- jail times. Are you taking it? Sounds kind of normal."

"I have nothing else that seems remotely interesting- I'll talk to him and see if there's any sort of interest."

"So- I can come?"

"Only if you don't tell John."

"Deal." I happily sip on the sugary coffee for energy and smile to myself. So the Great Game case is going to happen soon. It sounds sort of fun, but I'm not entirely sure I'm ready with dealing with all the bombs and stuff. Will I be in the flat when it explodes? I need to be away from that definitely. It was...I glance around me and spot the window- That's where the main part of the explosion will be. So if I'm in the kitchen I should pretty much be safe considering I don't want to mess with my sutures and I don't want to be sent to the hospital and such. I suddenly nod to myself and decide that it's a plan.

It doesn't take very long until Sherlock gets up and starts snapping at me to get ready, I glare at him, "You don't need to snap. And you're one to talk- you seem like the kind of person that would go to Buckingham Palace in a _sheet_." He scoffs and heads into his room to put on his coat and get dressed I assume, "I'm taking a shower and brushing my hair, by the way! Can I use your product?" I walk over to his front door and wait.

He snaps open the door, and levels a stare at me, "_FINE_. Just don't leave the bottle open like last time." Then the door slams.

"Thanks!" I call inside. I then head off to make myself presentable and put on my hand-me-down clothing.

I'm finally ready in fifteen minutes and I look at myself in the mirror. This dress is a bit more old-lady then the last one- but that's what I get considering I'm wearing Mrs. Hudson's clothing. I really need more clothes. I want nice boots and jeans, but all I've been wearing I dresses. I fluff up my curly hair and look at my face...I also need makeup. I don't like walking around looking like a teenager- I need to contour my face... Maybe a little dark red lipstick, dark eye-shadow and black eyelin-

"ELISE! COME OUT NOW OR I'M LEAVING WITHOUT YOU!" Sherlock's voice shocks me out of my reverie and I walk out of room and meet Sherlock at the door.

"Hello." I say casually. Sherlock ignores me and we both flounce down the stairs. Sherlock (with his magical taxi summoning skills) manages to get a cab in less then ten seconds and he quickly rattled off an address. "So Sherlock, how'd you get a plane ticket for me so fast."

"I never said we were flying."

I rolled my eyes, "But we _are_. So how did you get a plan ticket so fast?"

Sherlock waved his hand dismissively, "I just needed the money."

I nod and patiently look out the window. I can't help but think how insane this is. Not only am I stuck in fucking Sherlock land but now I'm going off on a flight to Minsk, Belarus with Sherlock Holmes. Oh god. Airports and Sherlock- I really don't think those two prospects mix. What with baggage claim and- wait do we even have baggage? I look around the taxi fleetingly and come to the conclusion Sherlock hadn't brought anything. In fact, why would Sherlock ever even go to Belarus in the first place? In the show it never played out and I have no idea why they had that extra, completely unnecessary scene. I hum a bit and move a little to see further out the window- only a shooting pain comes up my back. Oh yeah- I keep forgetting about those stupid stitches. When am I getting those removed anyway? Ugh.

"_Ugh_."

"What?"

I look at him, "Do a deduction Mr. Fucking-Know-It-All-Holmes my stitches are going to fucking rip the fuck out_ fuck_. This is fucking_ fuck_ _fuck fuck** fuck**_."

"Eloquent."

"It's shit Holmes. It's complete and utter pure flaming shit." It really was. This hurt like hell. I suddenly remembered I forgot my pain meds at 221B.

"Why do you insist on using profanities so often?"

"Because everything _hurts_." I look up at the cabbie, "You know this guy brought me to a place where I got shot? I could argue that because of his actions he got me shot."

The cabbie shook his head, "Oy- I don't want to get into this-"

"I did not get her **_shot_**! She jumped in front of a _bullet_ to save a women who just got_ murdered anyway_." Sherlock was getting a defensive look on his face.

"I was trying to** save her**! _Maybe_ if you would have kept an eye on her should would have survived!" I try and calm myself down, this was just supposed to be teasing. Only teasing-I can't actually get angry, "Sorry. It's not your fault I was just stupid and she would have gotten killed anyway. And if you were actually there you could have gotten shot like me- maybe even killed."

"There's no real need to apologize." Sherlock seems like he's about to say more but decides to simply look out the window.

"Hey- so what do you want to do in Belarus?"

"I expected we would simply go to the penitentiary and then."

"Yeah- but I mean it takes like what? Three hours to get there? We need a plan to get home in time before John notices we're gone. Our flight is boarding at -" I think for a moment. He never really gave me the time. "7:00?"

"Yes."

"Okay then our flight leaves at 7:00 and then three hours _woosh_ by, it's 10:00. We're there by 10:00 British time, it takes about an hour to get to the prison I assume so we'd be there at 11:00. Let's say we take an hour in the prison and interview your person. Then that's 12:00. Then we go eat something-" I hold up my hand to Sherlock's protest, "We are eating. I haven't had a real breakfast and I'll be very hungry by then. Anyways, we can plan to eat at place back at where the airport is. So boom another hour to get there. It's 1:00. Then we eat and I'd say it take thirty minutes so that's 1:30. Then we can catch a flight at 2:00. Then three hours _woosh_ by again and that's 5:00. So we'd be back home at 5:00. There you go. John finishes his shift at 5:30 so as long as we're back to 221B by then he'll never know we were gone."

"Your plan has much to many assumptions. Though you are correct Elise, it takes a little under an hour to get to the penitentiary from the airport." He takes out his phone from his pocket and starts rapidly typing, "I'll plan on an hour to interview whomever I find interesting, and I'll eat since I'm not officially on a case." He holds up the phone to me detailing a flight plan back to London from Belarus, "I've just scheduled the flight."

"Perfect. I love having a nice scheduled day."

Sherlock nods, "As do I when the circumstances arrive."

The cabbie voice pipes up from the front, "Are you guys related or something? I know Sherlock Holmes has a brother-"

"_Cousins_." Me an Sherlock say at the same time. I realize what he says and then I speak again, "Wait- you know him?"

"Yeah- Him and Dr. Watson take the cabs so much. They're a bit famous. You seem new though. Elise?"

"Yeah. That's my name."

"Huh. So Sherlock has a new sort of partner. Going around with him solving crimes. Are you going to stay?"

The question comes as a bit of a shock, am I? "I- I don't really know. I am for now though."

The rest of the cab ride goes along quietly. We make it to the airport and Sherlock's rushing out of the cab. Flinging himself into the airport I try my best to follow him.

"God Sherlock you don't have to move so freaking fast. It's not like we're going to be late for our flight." He's not listening to me and I continue to follow him, people rush around us with baggage and tickets, "Hey what's our flight number anyway? And terminal?" He's moving into a rather secluded part of the airport and I realize that the amount of people going by us is slowly getting lower, "Sherlock where are we going?" He turns into an empty hallway and grabs my wrist, "Sherlock!" I try and pull away but his gaze is fixed on me, "Sherlock, what are you doing?!" Panic starts welling up in my stomach and I gasp for breath, "**Let go of me**!" He's still just standing there and I can feel panic engulf me, "No. No not again. _Not again._" He lets go of my wrist and I slip to the ground gasping for breath.

"Not again?" He asks.

"_Why_!?_ Why did you do that_?**_ Don't do that_**!"

"Who are you in leagues with? Moriarty?" He looks at me and squints.

"NO! NO I would NEVER!" So this is what this was all about. I knew I couldn't keep it up for long before he wanted to interrogate me.

"So you do know who he is. Who is he? How do you know of him? How did you come into contact with John and I?"

I'm still on the ground and I feel exposed. I feel attacked and terrified. "I can't- I can't tell you that. And I still believe I just ended up here. That's all. I don't know how this all happened. I don't know why I'm here. I don't know." I feel pain slowly run up my back and I cringe.

"Did my brother send you to spy on me? Is that it? Did he think that a young _girl_ would be able to give him vital information?" Sherlock's tone is slowly becoming less interrogating and more questioning. As if he genuinely didn't understand what was going on. I agree with him, neither did I.

"No. I've never even met your brother." And it was true. "I've never met Moriarty either." That was also true.

"You're telling the truth." He seems oddly surprised.

"Of course I'm telling the _fucking_ truth Sherlock!" And now I start feeling numbness on my back and I ignore it.

"Not again?" He asks me as if I now exactly what the hell he's saying.

"What?"

"Not again. You said not again when I grabbed your wrist. What did you mean, not again?" He's staring at me intently and I can see the little wheels turning in his head. Can't I have one thing to myself? One fucking thing no one knows about me?

I take a deep breath and I put my hand on my face and rub my eyes, I look back up at Sherlock and make an intent look, "It means nothing Sherlock. I was scared. That's all." It didn't mean anything. I continue to tell myself. It meant nothing. Nothing ever happened. Nothing will ever happen.

He obviously doesn't believe me but nods anyway, "Get up then. We need to go to our terminal."

I nod and try to get up. And nothing happening. It's like my arms allow me to go up but my back is just completely numb, "Uh- Sherlock."

"What?"

"I think I ripped some stitches."


	6. Boom

So we had to miss our flight to Belarus. I was really excited to go but we had to miss the stupid flight to head to a clinic and get myself all re-sutured. Because apparently that stupid stunt Sherlock pulled just put too much stress on me and as I slid down the wall in a near panic attack my stitches ripped out. The nearest clinic was something like thirty minutes away so I had to wait in pain in a taxi. They told me to wait because it wasn't an emergency and we had to stay for what felt like hours. Finally we made it back to the flat and it's mid-afternoon.

"You're so stupid. You are just so stupid. Stupid."

"I assumed the best way to get you to talk was to stun you, how was I supposed to come to the conclusion you would have a panic attack."

"That wasn't a panic attack. It was like a quarter-panic-attack, the intense ones are much worse."

"And I assume you've had a lot of experience with panic." He gave me a knowing look and I glared at him.

"Oh, shut up Sherlock." I was currently laid out stomach down on the couch, "Can I move? I don't like this angle it's really uncomfortable."

"The doctor says to stay rested and not move much at all." Sherlock is draped over his chair and is staring at the ceiling.

"Eh. What do doctors know? I'm one and I don't even value my own opinion." I flip over the couch and ignore the stinging that moves up my spine. I really did value doctor's opinions and I knew because of this stunt I'll probably have to wait at least ten days before I can actually get my stitches removed in the first place. Though I just wanted to move to the kitchen to get out of line of the blast that I know will soon arrive. "Hey, Sherlock?

"Yes?"

"Would you mind introducing me as Dr. Holmes when we meet people? Like on cases and such because I figure they'd take me more seriously then." I was a doctor. I was intelligent and I had my title it deserved to be used. I leaned over the couch and looked at Sherlock.

"You're not even a real doctor it's just part of your-" He flipped his hand in the air dismissively, "_Delusion_." I know he thought that, but I really did have extensive knowledge of the human body.

"I know you think that but I really do have extensive knowledge of the human body. As well as multiple procedures and how they're performed. You've even said yourself that I'm a genius. Who says I'm not intelligent enough to be a doctor?" Sherlock is silent for a moment as if he's going over the information in his head.

"Name the anatomy of the ear."

Oh, this is stupid. But sort of fun now that I think of it, "Fine. From the outside in? Randomly? Inside out?"

"Any order you deem necessary."

I think for a moment assessing the ear in my head, "Uuh. Okay. Auricle, external acoustic meatus, temporal bone, tympanic membrane, malleus, middle ear, incus, stapes, semicircular canals, cochlea, and the Eustachian tube." I recite fairly quickly, "See. I know things."

"Fine I'll call you doctor."

"Yay!" I clap my hands together happily, "Now lets order some food because I'm starving and you need to eat too."

Sherlock pointed his finger at me suddenly, "On one condition."

"What?"

"We go to Bart's' and get a head. I need it for an experiment."

"Let me guess coagulation of saliva after death?" I smirk at him and he smirks at me.

"Of course, Dr. Camargo."

"I'm a Holmes now remember."

"Dr. _Holmes,_ then"

.-.-.-.

We head quickly over to St Bart's and I'm buzzing with energy, Sherlock looks at me strangely, "Why are you so eager to be arriving at a morgue?" We're walking down the halls heading towards the morgue where Molly works.

"I'm just excited." I was excited to meet Molly Hooper. She was so pretty, of course all the women in Sherlock were pretty but she was especially pretty. I also took a lot of pain medication before coming here so that might be the partial reason I'm buzzing with a high.

We make it into the morgue and I glance around to spot Molly bouncing around a body writing notes, she notices we've walked in and look up, "Oh! Hello Sherlock! And?" She looks at me.

"This is Doctor Elise Holmes." He gestures towards me.

Molly smiles and greets me, "Oh, hello. I'm Molly Hooper." She waves a little at me and I smile back, she then look towards Sherlock, "Is this the cousin you were telling me about?" She looks at me, "So, she's okay! Oh that's wonderful. Wait-" she takes a pause, "Aren't you fourteen? You're already a doctor?"

I look at Sherlock and glare at him. He wasn't supposed to be telling people about me. Especially not telling people I'm fourteen, "I'm not a practicing doctor yet, but yes I am. Also we've been telling people I'm eighteen."

Molly nods and seems like she's about to speak again before Sherlock rudely interrupts her, "I've come to you about a head Molly. Any specimens I can bring to 221B to measure the coagulation of saliva?"

Molly skitters like a mouse and quickly sets down her notepad to move around the morgue, "Oh yes. I do have something."

I see her head into a long hallway and what I assume to be a freezer. I smile at her. I've always liked her character, especially in season 3 when she finally decides she's not going to take Sherlock's crap anymore.

"Do you fawn over every mildly attractive women you meet?" Sherlock interrupts my thoughts and I turn to glare at him.

"No. I don't. I just appreciate it when people are kind, sweet, beautiful human beings with souls. Especially when that human being so happens to be someone like Molly Hooper. She looks like a wonderful person, and I'm sure she does you all kind of favors like bring you body parts and information without so much as a question even when it's against policy. It doesn't seem like you appreciate her enough though-" he seemed to in season three. "At least not now. You need to value the people around you and not write them off as idiots. For Christ sake Sherlock, you're even unbelievably rude to Mrs. Hudson sometimes! You have to be grateful for the things you have."

As I finished my rant Molly walks in with a large boxy container. Which I assume contains the head. Perfect timing, I tell myself. Wouldn't want Sherlock rebutting my arguments.

Sherlock takes the box and quickly from Molly and turns to look at me and has a look as if to say _'Ha. I didn't say thank you.'_ He starts walking out without me and I don't bother to follow. He stops at the door, "I'm doing some pre-tests in the forensics lab. Don't bother me." He continues on and the door shuts silently behind him.

Molly looks ate me and smiles, "You know, you don't need to defend me. I know how Sherlock is- really him bossing me around is no trouble." She says it in her kind, slightly quiet way.

"So you heard my little rant, huh?" I shake my head, "You really should say no to him some time though. I understand you like him- and want to help him." I take a slight pause "...Though saying no... it would really let him understand people can't be expected to do everything for him."

Molly nods at me, "I can do it. I suppose I just often don't want to." She gives me a little tight lipped smile, "So- how did you earn your doctorate at so young?"

_I didn't Molly, it tools hard work, just like how you got here._ "Just smart, I guess." I figured it best to keep things vague, "Must be a Holmes thing."

"So your from America? How are you related to Sherlock exactly?" She furrowed her brow and then suddenly popped up, "If that's okay to ask I mean! I don't want to be-"

"It's fine Molly." I interrupt her little ramble, "I'm the daughter of his Father's brother. My mom was Colombian and lived in America for a while, I mostly stayed with her." I accounted to using the Holmes name, why I was American, and why I was Latina, "I guess I just got a lot of my mom's genetics in the physical sense."

"And the intellectual and emotional?" She asks me.

"I suppose I'm a Holmes." You wouldn't assume emotionally. Me seeming happy- and funny and just... stable. Though I suppose I really am like a Holmes- closed off, emotionally distant, in denial. I cringe a bit and look down, "Don't ever think I'll be unkind though. To you- or anyone else who is kind to me." It's a bit quiet. Though I'm sure she heard me. I look her in the eye and she looks at me with earnest that's rare to see in people.

"Don't be afraid to talk to me. I'll listen." It's as though she knows everything about me. Her intuition and regard for people is spot on...I would like to be friends with Molly Hooper.

"I won't." I hear footsteps and the door to the morgue opens abruptly. Sherlock strides in and stands between us.

He looks at me then Molly, "Get along?"

"Yes." Molly says, she puts out her hand and I shake it, "Nice meeting you Elise. Talk to me anytime."

"Nice meeting you too. And I will." We both smile and as soon as I let go of her hand Sherlock tugs at my arm and starts to drag me to the door.

"Bye!" Molly does a little wave, reminiscent of when she first said hello to me.

I give a little wave back and soon I'm being pulled halfway down the hallway, "Let go Sherlock I can move on my own." He let's go and I follow him. "So are we eating out or getting something to bring home?"

"Getting things to bring home. I don't want to deal with society for all too long at the moment." He stops suddenly, enough to nearly make me run into him.

"What?" He's just standing there.

"You called 221B your home." He turns to look at me, "You must understand Elise- you're most likely not going to stay much longer. Getting attached to 221B and John, Mrs. Hudson, and even Molly isn't optimal for your mental health."

"Sherlock are you trying to be nice and give me advice right now? Because frankly I don't know whether to feel insulted or flattered." He doesn't respond quick enough so I continue talking, "I know that. It was just a slip of the tongue. 221B is my temporary home right now, I have every right to call it home. Just as I have the right to get attached to people like John, Molly, and Mrs. Hudson. I can call them friends." I look at him honestly, "You too."

"I'm-" He pauses, "You consider me...a friend?"

"Didn't I just say so Sherlock? Of course I do, I may have only known you for about a week, but I consider you a friend. I like you." It was true. I valued his intelligence, and character, and even more then that I simply value his person. I like him.

"Caring is not an advantage."

I chuckle, "Get that from your brother, did you now?" He stares at me abruptly.

"How did you know that?"

"Because in detective work- caring can be a massive advantage over your uncaring enemies. Though in government work- caring isn't much help."

"Are you saying you understood this simply based on job work? Come on, you can do better than tha-"

"It's also because you care. You care very much." It's time for me to give Sherlock a knowing look. Since I've been receiving them all day.

He furrows his brow at me and then makes a sort of exasperated growling noise and moves up the hallway to leave. This says very much, I suppose.

It doesn't take long for us to get Indian food from a local place, Sherlock got the guy off a drug charge so we had it on the house. We finally made it back to 221B and I ate tons of rice and curry. Sherlock lightly prodded at some chicken and managed to eat about a quarter of it before complaining about the spice and heading off to play violin in the living room. I really don't understand how that man manages to survive off of so little. Taking in all our fair amount of boredom Sherlock decided to do further research on the Belarus case he was going to take on by calling multiple guardsman on the phone and doing interviews there. He commented on how it was much more difficult to work a case when you can't actually see the person you are working a case on. In a very short amount of time though he came to the conclusion is was simply a 'boring domestic murder' as he liked to put it.

_"How do you figure?"_ I asked.

_"He had a history of abuse before."_

Time passed by and I was sitting in John's chair reading some weird book on mutilation by lions and veiled faces.* Really, I have no idea how Sherlock finds value in any of this stuff. I see Sherlock emerge from his room with a yellow paint can, and as I expected he paints a smiley face on the wall. I feel as if I'm witnessing history.

"What are you doing?" I'm still looking at the book, but I'm not reading anymore.

"I'm creating a suitable target." He sets down the paint can and I can see him going into John's room.

So I guess John will be coming home soon, I wonder if he met Sarah at work, "Using John's gun, huh?" I ask loudly.

"It's the one available." I hear it slightly from the room and then some rustling and Sherlock emerges. Takes across from me, where I'm sitting in John's chair he's standing in front of his own. He then levels the gun towards the smiley face and shoots. It startles me slightly and I grab my ears. Sherlock looks towards me, "Would you like to try?"

"Are you seriously asking me to shoot a gun. Sherlock I have never handled a gun before."

"I'm not asking you to do it. I'm asking you if you _want_ to." He holds out the gun, "Studies have proven that letting trauma victims do an activity such as shooting as an outlet for their negative emotions is actually very helpful."

I was frozen for like five seconds, because did he seriously just call me a fucking trauma victim, "Don't refer to me as a trauma victim again. If you do I will snap your neck I swear to God." I take the gun from his hand abruptly, "How do you shoot this thing anyway?"

"Just like you saw me."

Sherlock I don't have an eidetic memory. Unlike you may think at the moment, "Uuuh. Okay." I aim stand up and aim the gun directly at the wall to the best of my ability. Pull the little thing back, and then it shoots abruptly and jerks me back, "_WOAH_. THIS THING HAS A LOT OF POWER."

"It's a gun. What did you expect." Sherlock takes the gun back from me and shoot multiple times into the wall.

"Bored." I say quietly.

"BORED!" he says loudly.

He keep shooting and I'm laughing. I hear footsteps come up to the stairs, and I see John burst into the room with his hand on his ears, "What _hell_ are you doing?!"

I shrug, "He's bored."

"What?!" John's looking really confused.

"Bored!" Sherlock yells and shoots and the wall again.

"No-" John tries to stop him but Sherlock shoots again.

"Bored!" I yell giddily. Sherlock shoots.

"Don't know what's got into the criminal classes. Good job I'm not one of them." John manages to get the gun out of Sherlock's hand and puts it down.

He looks at us, "So you take it out on the wall."

"Oh, the wall had it coming." Sherlock waves his hand and flips onto the sofa spreading himself out like a liquid and I nod.

"Yeah. Pretty terrible that wall there." I point to it suddenly and cringe. "Ah." Yeah. Shouldn't do that. I head over to Sherlock's chair and sit down very lightly, of course my pain meds decide to wear off right as John comes back.

"I know I asked you to wave that Russian case, you needed to stay with Elise." John starts walking to the kitchen.

"Belarus? Open and shut domestic murder anyway. Not worth my time."

John hums, and I see him look distraught at the way we've left things, very full of experiments and rather dirty. I feel a bit bad for him. I'll probably clean up later. "Anything in? I'm starving." John opens the fridge an- "Oh f-" He opens it again and stares. Then closes it. Then opens it again and closes it. "It's a head." He says quietly. Then he looks at me, "A severed head!"

"Just tea for me thanks." Sherlock says sassily from the sofa.

"A bloody head!" I try and stop myself from giggling.

"Well where else was I supposed to put it?" Sherlock says into the air, "You don't mind, do you?" He looks at John who's walked back out now and is staring at Sherlock like he's crazy.

"Well... I'm sure Elise minds."

I shake my head, "No actually. I'm fine with it. We got the head from Bart's Morgue. Sherlock wanted to measure the coagulation saliva- it's actually really cool, Sherlock explained to me how even after death all this stuff still happens and their glands start-" I notice John is looking at me the same way he just looked at Sherlock, "Sorry."

"See you've written up the taxi driver case." Sherlock says it from the sofa and I start trying to recall when he read it. I really don't remember. Though I suppose he did.

"Er- yes." John sits down in his chair across from me.

"Study in Pink. Nice." Sherlock says.

"Well, you know. Pink lady, pink case, pink phone. There was a lot of pink. Did you like it?" As John starts speaking I remember that I claimed to know who Sherlock Holmes was from John's blog. Now that I think of it- he didn't even post The Study in Pink when I claimed to have known things about them. How did they not question me about that yet? Maybe they thought I read a paper on it somewhere? Or do they just let things go with the flow until they figure out any reasonable explanation for how I have so much knowledge? I start squinting intently and I hardly time notice when Sherlock speaks.

"Mmmm...No."

"Why not? I thought you'd be flattered." He looks at me, "Did you like it?"

I snap out of my thoughts, "I uh- I didn't read it yet actually." John nods and Sherlock growls.

"You wouldn't like it Elise." He scoffs, "Flattered? 'Sherlock sees through everything and everyone in seconds, what's incredible though is how spectacularly ignorant he is about some things.'"

I gasp, "Scandalous!"

John looks affronted, "Now hang on a minute. I didn't mean that in a-"

"Oh- you meant 'spectacularly ignorant' in a nice way." Sherlock turns to John, "Look. It doesn't matter to me who's Prime Minister..."

"I know..." John acknowledges quietly.

"...Or who's sleeping with who..."

"Whether the Earth goes 'round the Sun..." John says softly.

"Not that again. It's not important."

"Not impor-" John shifts his position in his chair to look at Sherlock, "It's _primary_ school stuff. How can you not know that?"

Sherlock presses his hands to his eyes, "Well, if I ever did, I've deleted it."

John is majorly confused now, "Deleted it?"

I interrupt before Sherlock can start speaking, "Well yeah, you can think of it as a sort of filter. His brain can't hold in all that stuff without deleting some things. Lots of those things depend on whether it's important to Sherlock in cases and stuff." I say it casually.

John shakes his head, "So are you telling me you do that too?"

Well no I don't, "Well no I don't. I don't really need to, the stuff I know is the stuff I know- whether it's important or not. I don't even know how to delete things t in the first place."

John gestures at me and looks at Sherlock, "See _she_ doesn't need to do that! It's the_ solar system_."

Sherlock flips himself over and buries his head in his hands briefly, "Oh, hell! What does that _matter_?!" He looks at John in frustration, "So we go 'round the Sun! If we went round the Moon," Here's my moment.

_"Or 'round and 'round the garden like a teddy bear.""Or 'round and 'round the garden like a teddy bear." _I say it at the same time as Sherlock and Sherlock ignores me while John mutters 'creepy' under his breath.

Sherlock continues, "It doesn't make any difference! All that matters to me is the work. Without that, my brain rots." He ruffles his hair with both hands, then glares at John, "Put _that_ on your blog. Or better still, stop inflicting your opinions on the world." He shoves a magazine across the coffee table like a child and flips over into the sofa again and curls up into the sofa.

John looks at me, "Do you mind?" He then stands up. I shake my head because I understand he wants to go. He nods and walks towards the living room door.

Sherlock looks over his shoulder, "Where are you going?"

John puts his jacket on, "Out. I need some air." He heads for the stairs and I can see Mrs. Hudson start coming up. "'Scuse me Mrs..."

"Oh, sorry, love!"

"Sorry." John says and then opens the doors and walks out.

I see Sherlock sulking on the couch and frown while Mrs. Hudson comes in. I acknowledge a blast is going to come soon and with a lot of pain I start heading towards the kitchen to sit down, "Them two have a little domestic?" Mrs. Hudson asks me as she sets down some shopping bags on the table. I nod and Sherlock stands up looking at me strangely for moving. He heads to the window to watch John. "Oh, it's a bit nippy out there. He should have wrapped himself up a bit more."

"Look at that Mrs. Hudson. Quiet, calm, peaceful. Isn't it _hateful_?"

I laugh and Mrs. Hudson walks into the living room, "Oh, I'm sure something'll turn up Sherlock A nice murder- that'll cheer you up."

"It can't come to soon, I guess." I say to Mrs. Hudson. She smiles before glancing at the shot up wall and gasping.

"What've you two done to my bloody wall!?" Mrs. Hudson looks at us angrily. Sherlock turns to smirks at me at my sitting position in the kitchen before turning around and looking at the smiley face. Mrs. Hudson goes to storm of down-stairs, "I'm putting this on your rent, young man!"

I see Sherlock walk towards the middle of the room turning towards me and I brace myself, "You might want to move back a little bit." I say without thinking.

"What?" Sherlock asks.

Then a blast from the other street makes the windows shatter and he gets hurled forwards on the floor.

* * *

*_reference to The Veiled Lodger _

_Go ahead and tell me what you think in the reviews :)_


	7. Phone Number

_Guess who's been swamped in tons and tons of work! This person right here. Sorry for this chapter taking such a long time I've been working on college apps and what nots. I hope I can get the chapters after this done quickly though. I'm definitely going to be posting more regularly and I'll probably make the chapters around 5,000 words. I think this one got up to 6,000 though, I figure after waiting so long I'd give you a lot._

* * *

So Sherlock is ultra suspicious now. He trusted me at first but then I had to run my mouth and be stupid and warn him about the explosions seconds before it happened. I really do acknowledge how stupid I was being for doing that.

Currently, he's sitting in front of me on the kitchen table. He's staring intently at me with his blue eyes and I'm occasionally wiggling under the stare.

"So are you going to just stare at me all day?"

"If need be I will. How did you know about the explosion?"

I pass my hand tiredly over my face, "I just _do_ okay. And it was a gas leak anyway!" Mrs. Hudson had rushed up right away after and told us the story, so I figure I'd use the information I already knew.

Sherlock furrows his brow, "It's possible it wasn't."

It's late, and I'm tired. I just want to deal with this later. "Sherlock, I don't know okay! I'm really tired, can you just leave me alone? My stitches are aching and I want to get some shut-eye..." Sherlock humphs at me and quickly stands up pushing his chair aggressively in the table and walking towards the living room. "I'm going to assume that's a yes?" I shout out to him. He doesn't respond and I shrug to head down the hallway to my roo- no John's room, I remind myself silently...Sherlock's right, getting attached isn't good for me.

As I head into the room I feel a little bit of loneliness hit my chest, and I just miss my old life. I let my hands rush through my hair, and get stuck in the knotted curls along the way. I plop down on the bed and gasp for breath as my back starts to blur into pain. I'm just so- lonely. Don't get me wrong, having Sherlock and John is nice but they're just waiting to get rid of me- I have no one to talk to- no one to tell my pains to and no one is going to believe me.

I cover myself in blankets not bothering to change and I can feel tears start falling down my cheeks. I just want to go home. I want to forget everything. I cry a bit, trying not to sound too loud and put my face into a pillow.

*.*.*.*.

Sherlock didn't know what to think at the moment. All he knew was that as he walked down the hallway he could hear broken sobs coming from where Elise was supposed to be sleeping. He was about to open the door before deciding against it and going to his room.

*.*.*.*.

The next morning was interesting to say the least.

I had woken up in my clothes from yesterday remembering my little breakdown and sighed to myself as I picked the crust from my eyes. Then I just sort of threw on one of John's white shirts- because why not, it's available- and some loose pants. Then I head into the bathroom and brush my teeth. It's feels like six in the morning, I actually thinks it's around 10ish, but I still need my daily dose of coffee. I walk into the kitchen with my eyes blurry and get some instant coffee- my normal routine.

I yawn and scratch my rats nest of a head as I take a long sip from the extremely sugarafied coffee. I then turn slowly, completely ignore my surroundings, not acknowledging anything and I squint at the sunlight. Then I walk into the living room and go towards the sofa where I sit and close my eyes, pondering the reality of tiredness.

Then a familiar voice, not Sherlock's though, starts to pull me out of the cloudiness, "And who is this young girl, Sherlock?"

Ohmygod it's Mycroft. I snap my eyes open really quickly and my coffee drips slightly over John's white shirt as I try to compose myself, "Ohmygod. I'm so sorry." I get up and put down my coffee on a table, "Mycroft! Nice to meet you, finally. Sherlock's told me all about you! Lots of good things, lots of good things." I try and brush my hair back to no avail. "British government. Working for The Queen. _Niiiceee_."

I walk over to him and put my hand out where he is sitting. He doesn't shake and instead opts to speak again, "I've asked who you are. Not who I am." He says it so cheekily. God. I put my hand down.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm Elise." I furrow my brow for a second before speaking again, "But wait- shouldn't you know about me? I've been here for like a week- and I got shot. I don-"

"Yes, I've heard of you." He snaps his eyes at Sherlock who just has a scowl on, "Though my brother doesn't like to _inform_ me of such things. Though he obviously likes talking about me."

Sherlock smirks and shakes his head, "I haven't said a word."

Mycroft raises an eyebrow at me,"I hear you're the newest addition to the family." He gives me a small all-knowing smirk and I laugh.

"Oh sorry about that- I couldn't think of anything better I know how ridiculous it is." I feel so awkward right now. Why isn't he asking me any serious questions like how I got here. Or what I want with his brother. _Or how I even know so much about him. _"D-Do you want any tea or coffee?" Goddammit Elise you're not a maid bring yourself together.

Sherlock suddenly decides to interrupt, "Elise don't bring him anything he asks for. Just ignore him, he's not worth the breath."

I turn my head to Sherlock sharply, "You know what Sherlock? You don't tell me what to do." I point my finger to Mycroft, "Neither does he. Though, I can do whatever I damn well please, and that includes being polite... And if he wants fucking tea- I'm _making him some fucking British ass tea_, do you hear me?" Sherlock picks up the violin from the side of his chair and starts plucking the strings absently, deciding to not respond. "Yeah, that's what I thought." I then full on address Mycroft, "Do you want fucking English breakfast tea, or Earl Grey or some posh shit?" The hell with being light and subtle.

Mycroft looks at me curiously, and shakes his head (I swear to god I will break that poker face someday), "No thank you, I'm perfectly fine." He then smiles in a really condescending way and turns his attention back to Sherlock, "You must take the case Sherlock, it's very important and you'll be the best man to do it."

I hear the door of 221B bang and John Watson walking up the stairs quickly, "Sherlock! Elise!" He sounds really worried, and I didn't blame him- if I thought someone I cared about got hurt I would be really worried too.

"I'm fine! I'm fine!" I yell out, "Don't worry!" He then emerges from the door and I glance at him from the couch and he looks at me and Sherlock, assessing the damaged flat but sighing in relief.

"John." Sherlock says as he plucks a string, both him and Mycroft glance at him.

"I saw it on the both okay?" He looks at exchanges looks at us both.

"Yeah- I just told you. And Sherlock's fine too." I smile at him and he smiles back.

Sherlock glances around as if he had forgotten about the explosion, "Gas leak apparently." He looks back at his brother and plucks a string, "I can't."

"Can't?" Mycroft raises an eyebrow.

"The stuff I've got on is much too big, I can't spare the time."

I raise an eyebrow at the lie, and exchange a glance with John who's still assessing the damage to the flat obviously oblivious to whatever is going on.

"Never mind your usual trivia this is of national importance."

"How's the diet?" I laugh obnoxiously

Mycroft makes a face, "_Fine_." He takes a pause, "Perhaps you can get through to him John."

"What?"

"I'm afraid my brother can be very intransigent."

Sherlock plucks the strings again, "If you're so keen, why don't you investigate it?"

I interrupt, "Oh, he hates leg work I'm sure Sherlock and it's not like he can be away from the office, not with the Korean elections of course." That'll stick a knife in you Mycroft.

Everyone turns to me curiously and Mycroft is surprised for a moment before his stare becomes dangerous. Or maybe that comment will stick a knife in me. Damn. Sherlock looks surprised, and John surprised, after realizing I was correct. The silence continues for half a second before Sherlock speaks.

"I'm sorry John, how was the lilo."

"Sofa, actually." I comment passingly staring straight at Mycroft. He raises a critical eyebrow and nods.

John squints at me with an exasperated face on, "How?_ Oh_ never mind." He then sits down on the coffee table in front of the couch where I'm sitting.

"Sherlock's business seems to be booming since you and him and _her_... became pals. What's he like to live with? Hellish, I imagine." He smiles in a patronizing way, and I can't help but notice his particularly dangerous aura directed at me.

John seems not to notice the tense feeling and speaks, "I'm never bored."

"_Good._ That's good isn't it?" Mycroft's brother is still smiling but I feel uneased. He gets up with papers and heads towards Sherlock to hand it to him, when Sherlock refuses Mycroft makes a face and heads towards John and hands him the papers. They have there little exchange while explaining the case and I'm absently listening- though I remember most of it from the show. Andrew Westley, blah blah blah Bruce Partington Plans and all that jazz.

Finally Mycroft is off to leave, and he shakes John's hand, "Goodbye John, see you very soon." He then walks towards me.

"Nice meeting you, Elise." He takes a subtle pause before leaning towards me and commenting, "I'm sure your teachers found you a _pleasure_ as well."

A tightness takes over my chest suddenly and I hardly notice as Sherlock plays the violin aggressively and Mycroft walks out. I can't speak. I can't breath. I can't breath. I can't breath.

"What was that about?" John asks me. I can't speak. "Elise?" I can't breath. "_Elise_?" How could Mycroft know that? How could he tell? What's wrong with me? I gasp and breath heavily. "Elise? Are you alright?" Suddenly a pair of hands take my shoulders and I flinch away violently backing quickly into the corner of the sofa.

"Get the _FUCK_ off me!" John backs away and puts his hand up and he says sorry. I realize what I've done and shake my head, "Sorry. I'm sorry. It's nothing, just- I don't want to talk about it." I make a little smile and John nods. Sherlock is staring at me with the violin in his hands.

I wait until the situation slowly devolves and John sits back down at the coffee table. Everybody is still tense and he obviously realizes my discomfort, "So why'd you lie?" He asks Sherlock. "You've got nothing on. Not a _single_ case. That's why the wall took a pounding- Why did you tell your brother you were busy?" It's kind of true. I never really knew why Sherlock didn't out right take the case from the beginning- I get the whole brotherly spite and I'll solve it anyway but it's still kind oft interesting.

"Why shouldn't I?" Sherlock scratches the back of his head with his bow and I cringe. You shouldn't do that to a bow it'll mess up the hairs.

"Oh." John nods, "Nice. Sibling rivalry now we're getting somewhere."

Sherlock's phone quickly diffuses the situation and I stand up to get my clothes. Sherlock answers the phone quickly, "Sherlock Holmes." He pauses, "Of course. How can I refuse?" He hangs up the phone, "Lestrade. Get ready Elise."

I'm already down the hallway, "I am! Oh and John sorry I think I stained your shirt with coffee!"

John shakes his head, but smiles, "It's fine."

I get ready really quickly throwing on some tights and a grey dress, then aggressively put my stubborn hair up. I'm ready in less then five minutes and smile at both John and Sherlock. I'm almost disappointed I missed the 'I'd be lost without my blogger'. But my problems of disappointment are solved when we head into a taxi to Scotland Yard. I'm ultra excited to meet Lestrade, even Donovan.

The ride to the Yard was peaceful, I was buzzing with excitement, and we made little conversation. Finally we head up to the place and I'm on an elevator with them- I can't hold in my excitement. I really shouldn't get like this _every time_ I'm going to meet a new character, it's a bit strange. "So I'm going to get to meet DI Lestrade? It's a bit exciting. Is he nice?"

Sherlock doesn't respond but John does, "Yeah, he's pretty nice. How do you know about him?"

"Like I said before- I read a lot and Lestrade is in a few papers. I've done research on him, he seems interesting."

The elevator dings and we head out to a bustling room of offices. I see Lestrade in the middle of the room and we all head towards him.

I immediately put out my hand politely, "Hi, I'm Dr. Elise Holmes. Is it fine if I accompany Sherlock and John on this case?" He's much taller then me (about a foot), like so many people are, so I have to look up at him. He smiles with a surprised look on his face and shakes my hand firmly.

"Yes..." he says slowly, "Sherlock told me about you when the Soo Lin accident happened. You look like you're recovering nicely from the shot. Doing well?" I'm forever grateful he doesn't question how young I look. Or how I'm related to Sherlock. Or why I'm American. Or how I'm a doctor. Or why I'm even here. He's so polite.

"I'm doing fine. I'm recovering really well and I have stitches, but they should be removed in about a week."

Lestrade smiled broadly and starting walking quickly to another area, and begins speaking while we walk, "You like the funny cases don't you? Surprising ones."

"Obviously." Sherlock says.

"Well you'll love this. That explosion-"

"Gas leak. Yes?" We pass Sally Donovan and she gives me a curious look, I smile fleetingly and she smiles back. I'm sort of happy to know she still is a person- not just the bitch everyone likes to assume.

"No."

"No?"

"No. Made to look like one."

"What?" John questions.

We're in another room which I assume to be a sort of office.

Lestrade explains, "Hardly anything left of the place. Except a strong box. A _very_ strong box. And inside there was this." He gestures towards an envelope with Sherlock's name scrawled on it Adler I think fleetingly before Sherlock speaks.

"You haven't opened it?"

Leastrade shrugs, "It's addressed to you isn't it? We've x-rayed it, it's not booby trapped."

"How reassuring." Sherlock says sarcastically and picks up the envelope. He brings it under a lamp and starts examining it.

I walk next to him and look at the letter too, "Nice handwriting, Bohemian."

"What?" Lestrade asks me.

"From the Czech Republic." Sherlock answers, "No fingerprints?"

"No."

"So she used a fancy fountain pen." I say. Sherlock adds to it after me with a little more detail about the pen.

"She?" John asks.

"Obviously." Sherlock says rudely.

John looks at him and sighs, "Obviously..." I spare an apologetic glance.

Sherlock begins to open the envelope dramatically and takes out a phone with a pink case.

"Tha- That's the phone. The pink phone." John says.

"What from a Study in Pink?" Lestrade comments in the background.

"Not exactly. Though it's made to lo- A Study in Pink? You read his blog?" I laugh at the sudden change in mood. And people ignore my giggling.

"Of course I do! We all do! Do you _really_ not know that the Earth goes 'round the Sun?" Lestrade says. Donovan walks in an laughs. I don't blame her it is funny- and when you have a guy constantly insult you it's nice to finally get something on them. I see John make a face like he regrets it and I'm really not sure who to feel bad for in this situation. She walks out and Sherlock simply moves on.

"It isn't the same phone. This one is brand new- someone's gone through a lot of trouble to make it look like the same phone. Which means," He looks towards John, "Your _blog- _Has a far wider readership." Now don't be mean Sherlock this isn't John's fault. Sherlock clicks on the phone and I ruffle up in anticipation. This is when everything begins.

**_You have one new message._ _Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeeep. _**

"Five pips." I say quietly. Sherlock looks at me and John speaks.

"Is that it?"

"Nope." The phone receives a message and he holds it up to all of us. The picture of the 221C.

"We'll what the hell are we supposed to make of that?" Lestrade comments. Which makes sense- because really if Sherlock didn't know it would have been impossible. "An estate agent's photo and the bloody Greenwich pips?"

"It's a warning."

"A warning?" John questions.

"Back in secret societies they used to send dried seeds, from lemons and oranges and such. Five pips- which means that it's going to happen again." Sherlock doesn't seem to be irritated by me taking his deduction anymore. He just nods and shakes the phone.

"I've seen this place before." Sherlock starts leaving before John asks me something.

"Hang on? What's doing to happen again?"

And Sherlock being the drama queen goes "BOOM!" and makes a large hand movement then starts leaving. I follow John along and Lestrade comes with.

"So you are a genius." He comments while we're heading to a car to leave, "Just nicer then Sherlock. A Holmes- but not."

"If you want to a put it that way." I say. I'm not a Holmes and I'm not a genius. I just have foreknowledge. He nods and we head off to 221C. When we go inside the building I immediately head towards it and Sherlock looks at me curiously before getting ahead. When Mrs. Hudson lets us in we head down the basement flat and we're all standing along side each other.

Looking at a pair of shoes.

"Shoes." John comments quietly. Sherlock's about to go toward it quickly before John stops him, "He's a bomber remember."

Sherlock gets down to examine the shoes before he gets interrupted by the phone and gets up and answers it on speaker. "Hello?"

**_"H-hello Sexy"_**

I close my eyes and I can't stand the voice of that poor women. I can stop all of this right now. I can just say who I know Moriarty- I can do that right now. But I'm stuck in limbo- if I do I don't know if they'll even believe me and when I'm right- What will happen to me? What will they think? I'm so selfish.

"Who is this?"

I quickly begin to leave the room and start heading up the stairs, John and Lestrade look at me curiously but don't question it as the woman's voice answers.

**_"I left you a little puzzle."_**

My stomach turns and I opt to sit at the top of the stairs and ignore it. Ignore everything because I feel terrible. I'm terrible. What am I supposed to do? Sherlock will figure it out- Sherlock will save her... But what about the old lady? What about everyone else? Will it work out differently if I'm here? I don't want that poor women sitting with a bomb for nearly twelve hours. I don't _want_ that.

My heart is beating very fast, and I'm trying to keep my breath steady but I really am scared. I put two fingers up to my neck and feel my pulse and count- 1,2,3,4... 60 seconds pass... about 180 beats per minute- I need to calm down. I need to _calm down_, stop freaking out so much.

I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and I quickly stand up and head out of the door, I don't need John looking concerned at me or Sherlock's analysations or Lestrade's confusion. I don't need that- and they're going to Bart's now and I don't want to go.

Oh no.

Moriarty. Moriarty is going to be with Molly Hooper- I can't be there. I _can not_ be there. I need to avoid it all costs. I quickly avoid the door of 221C and run up the stairs heading to 221B. The door's open so I run inside and head down the kitchen hallway leading to a bathroom. Closing the door I slide down the opposite wall and sit quietly. Closing my eyes for some peace and quiet. I wait.

Short time passes before I hear the door of the apartments shut close with a thump. Then heavy footsteps head up the stairs, I'm a doctor not a child I shouldn't be curled up in a ball like this- but I can't help the fear. I miss home. I get up and lock the door and go back down again. John might knock- but Sherlock would simply open it.

It doesn't take long before I hear footsteps come down the hallway and then the door knob is shaken suddenly. "_Sherlock_" I hear John scold from the other side of the door. I smile to myself. Then a twittery knock is heard.

"Captain John Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers and His Twittery Knock." I say quietly.

I'm disappointed when John doesn't laugh, "Elise? Are you alright? We're going to Bart's."

"What if I don't want to go?" I drum my fingers against the bathroom floor.

Sherlock's deep voice is firm, "You have to stay in our sight. We know nothing about you and despite your apparent truthfulness- many of your actions say otherwise. Did you recognize the woman's voice?"

"I don't know her." And it was true. I don't know her. "I've never met anyone with that voice." And I haven't, yet again.

There's slight ruffling behind the door and a shushing noise then I hear John's voice, "Elise we believe you. Though Sherlock is partially right, you _need_ to come with us. We still don't know how you got here or who you are or who _knows_ you." I understand John's point of view, for all he knows I could be some assassin or I could _know_ an assassin.

I shuffle around and get to my feet, I unlock the door and open it slowly. John and Sherlock back out of the way and I face both of them, "Fine. I'll come with you." I then flounce past them without a word and run down the hallway and down the stairs and out the door and start waiting for a taxi. John and Sherlock come soon after and Sherlock's magic taxi hailing skills get us a cab in less then a minute. I'm silent and I'm staying silent and I _will not react to Moriarty_.

I'm fairly quiet on the way to Barts and I'm grateful for John, because every time it looked like Sherlock was about to ask me a question he hushed him. When we get out of the car and I mouth 'thank you' and smile, he mouths 'no problem'. I really like John.

We journey up to Bart's and Sherlock starts quickly examining the shoes. Taking samples and all that. I don't see Molly around yet, but I'm very apprehensive of 'Jim'.

"So who do you suppose it was?" John comment while Sherlock is examining specimens. "Hmm? The woman on the phone, the crying woman?"

"Oh, she doesn't matter she's just a hostage. No lead there."

John paces, "For God's sake, I wasn't thinking about leads."

"You're not going to be much use to her." Sherlock is right. But I still think he can have a bit more tact. I feel awkward sitting about, I walk up behind Sherlock and glance over his shoulder as John speaks.

"Are they trying to trace it, trace the call?"

"The bomber's too smart for that. Pass me my phone." I immediately think John's going to answer, because that how it goes in the show but there is silence. "Elise."

"I'm not getting your phone from your jacket, Sherlock."

"Please."

John speaks, "Wait- did you just say please?"

I smile, "Oh my, he really did say please." Sherlock scoffs but I smile and get him his phone... He said please, typically these things take a lot from him and I'm actually kind of flattered. I look at Sherlock's phone and see a text, "You got a text from your brother.

"Delete it."

"It says 'Any progress on Andrew West's death?'" I put down the phone and look at him, "You sure? Mycroft thinks it's important. He texted you eight times , just like a bro. Though he should've cancelled his dental appointment, I agree- maybe you should keep them just in case."

Sherlock looks up from his microscope, "Andrew Wes-"

"Sherlock, you shouldn't make assumptions about whether or not he tried to sell them and you know it."

"He's just determined to bore me, when someone else is being so delightfully interesting."

John walks over, "You know I didn't understand much of any of that. And try and remember there's a woman who might die."

I agree, "I agree."

"What for?" Yet again, Sherlock being a dick. I understand he tries to distance himself from the situation, but motherfucker he's still cold as stone. "Dr. Watson and Camargo, there are hospitals full of dying people. Why don't you both go cry by their bedside and see what good it does them?" He looks between both of us, me to the left of him and John to the right.

John and I then exchange a glance as if to say _'He's a bitch' . _The computer beeps and in that moment Sherlock seems happy and Molly walks in. And oh god it's coming. Moriarty's coming.

"Any luck?" Molly strides over smiling.

"Oh, yes." Sherlock says enthusiastically.

And I look up to where Molly is walking towards us and I freeze as Moriarty walks in, "Oh, sorry- I didn't..." His voice sounds so normal. And I'm not blinking.

Molly smiles at the devil, "Jim! Hi! Come in, come in." I manage to unstuck myself from the middle of Molly and Moriarty and manage to make it closer to John on the other side of Sherlock. I needed distance. "Jim, this is Sherlock Holmes."

"Ah." I avoid Moriarty's gaze over the people in the room and stay silent. Act normal and he won't notice anything wrong.

"And uh- Dr. Elise Holmes," Molly gestures towards me and I have a tight lipped smile. I look at Jim and something passes over his face. I don't know what, but something. "And uh-" Molly pauses, "Sorry..."

"John Watson, hi." John nods to Jim apathetically, but instead of looking at him Moriarty's still looking at me. I avert my gaze when he speaks.

"Hi." He looks at Sherlock in a dreamy way, and I can't help but think how great an actor he really is. "So you're Sherlock Holmes. Molly's told me all about you." He walks past me and John and I tense instantly, "Are you on one of your cases?"

Molly looks so happy and I already feel bad for her, "Jim works in IT upstairs. That's how we met, office romance."

Sherlock nods, "Gay." Should I? No I shouldn't. Should I? God this isn't the time Elise.

"No." I say quietly. Damn. DAMN. WHY THE_ FUCK_. **_IT DOESN'T EVEN MATTER_**.

Molly doesn't hear me, "Sorry, what?" I can tell that Jim did though because his masks slip for a moment and he glances at me, I avert the gaze again, and Sherlock notices too. But it doesn't do much.

"Nothing." Sherlock says, "Um, hey."

Jim knocks over a dish and I flinch violently backward "Sorry, sorry." He says. John looks exasperated- and I try to take solace in the humor. "Well, I'd better be off." I start again at the familiar words said at the pool, events that will happen very soon. Jim walks towards Molly again, so normally and casually, "I'll see you at the Fox, about 6ish?" He asks her nicely.

"Yeah." She says, and I cringe when I see him put his hand on her back. I almost feel like snapping but manage to hold it.

"Bye. It was nice to meet you." Even though it just seems like the typical thing to do for him. I can't help but be freaked out by it in the context. I love Moriarty- Moriarty is my favorite character, but he gives off a creepy vibe.

"You, too." John says when Sherlock doesn't respond. And I know that's when Moriarty chooses him to put in a bomb vest._ The last pip. _I think to myself.

Jim leaves the room and I instantly relax.

"What do you mean 'gay'?" Molly asks, "We're together." I feel bad for her. It's like she's just attracted to the bad guys. Thank god I'm a lesbian.

"And domestic bliss must suit you, Molly. You've put on three pounds since I last saw you."

I interrupt before Molly speaks, "Don't be a fucking dick Sherlock!" I yell.

Sherlock looks at me, "I understand you may not think he's gay, but all the evidence proves other-wise."

"Sherlock..." John warns.

"He's not gay!" No he's just a murdering psychopath, "Why do you have to spoil... he's not!"

"With that level of personal grooming?"

John looks skeptical, "Because he puts a bit of product in his hair? I put product in my hair!"

"You wash your hair," Sherlock says "There's a difference."

I interrupt, "Well I'm not sure about you Sherlock, but I don't think anyone can really properly deduct somebody's sexuality. I don't _look_ lesbian and I don't think you'd deduce it about me."

"It's different when it's obvious." Sherlock is just making excuses now I think, "No, no, tinted eyelashes, clear signs of taurine cream around the frown lines, those tired clubbers' eyes... Then there's his underwear..."

"His underwear?" Oh yeah, I'm skeptical too Molly.

"Visible above the waistline, very visible. Very particular brand." He then turns to a metal dish, "That plus the very suggestive fact that he just left his number under this dish here and I'd say you better break it off now and save yourself the pain." Why is he so mean? Why is he_ so mean_?

Molly quickly walks out of the room and I don't understand how Sherlock can not notice the bad effect on people. He needs to learn how to develop tact.

"Charming, very well done." John says.

"Oh yeah, beautifully executed." I add.

"Just saving her the time. Isn't that kinder?" He really he clueless.

I put my hand over my face and groan as John speaks, "Kinder? No, no. Sherlock, that wasn't kind."

Sherlock pauses for a moment and then talks, which I accurately detect as a way to avoid further conversation on this topic. "Go on, then." He gestures towards the shoes.

"Hmm?" John hums.

"You know what I do. Off you go." It's like Sherlock either wants to ridicule, test, or train John. I'm not sure which.

"No." I understand, if I was asked I wouldn't want to do it.

"Go on."

"I'm not going to stand here so you can both humiliate me-"

I wouldn't do that John, "Hey! I would never humiliate you!"

Sherlock shakes his head, "It's not that. An outside eye, a second opinion. It's very useful to me."

John's not taking it, "Yeah, right."

"Really." He trust you Sherlock and you'll just embarrass him anyway.

John gives in and does his deductions, which is actually pretty good. Better then I would have done, I wouldn't have noticed the name, or the fact that they're an old style of shoe. I wouldn't have figured out a kid wore them. John is very smart and I want Sherlock to appreciate that more. When he finishes John asks how he did. Sherlock is silent and I'm not sure why. I look up at them to see what's up and Sherlock and John are staring at me.

"What?"

"What do you deduce, Elise?" Sherlock raises his eyebrows.

"Why should I deduce anything."

John shrugs, "Because you can."

I groan, "Fine. The kid really liked the shoes took care of them a lot and changed the laces, he had eczema, he didn't have good arches, it's actually like twenty years old because they're originals, not vintages, and someone has been keeping these for years." The computer beeped suddenly and I glanced at it, "And yeah, I guess this guy came from Sussex."

"Good job Elise, that seems to be everything I've gathered." Oh my, I was just complimented by Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes said please- what's next? Thank you? "So a child with big feet..." His eyes widened. "Oh." He paused for a moment, "Carl Powers."

"I'm sorry, who?" John looks at him in confusion and then at me. I just shrug.

"Carl Powers, John."

"What is it?"

"It's where I began."

Sherlock stands up abruptly from his chair and heads out of the room. John starts to follow, and before I head off, I look under the metal dish. A plain paper, with a phone number sits on the table.

I take it, and follow them.

* * *

_And I'll leave it at that. Lots of this, and lots of what I have been writing has been simply going through the episodes events. Though I definitely plan on making a much more unique twist of things, up to the point where Elise won't be able to know what will happen anymore._

_Next chapter should be coming soon._


	8. Bee Gees

So_ writing 5,000 words a chapter is actually way harder then I expected... Though I managed to actually get things done so that's good..._

_I also noticed in my last chapter I accidentally had Molly introduce Elise to Moriarty as 'Doctor Elise Camargo'. Oops..._

_I changed it to Doctor Elise Holmes._

* * *

I'm sitting crosslegged on the sofa with the paper in the crook of my legs. John's too stressed to notice anything strange about me. He opens the kitchen door and has a chat with Sherlock, something about him wanting to help- then sooner then I imagined he begins to get ready to go leave.

"Where are you going?" I ask. He's putting on another coat and even wears a watch.

"I'm helping Sherlock with that case Mycroft assigned. Want to come?" Do I want to come? I don't necessarily want to stay here with Sherlock doing nothing, but then again I don't want to see Mycroft again. I really don't.

"No thanks John, go on and do your thing. I'll just stay here, and try and help Sherlock." I give him a tight-lipped smile and he nods and quickly skits downstairs and I hear the door to 221B open and then bang close. If I go out now what will Sherlock say? Can I lie to him? I uncross my legs and stand up. I don't think they noticed the piece of paper. At least I really hope Sherlock didn't notice. I stuffed it in my bra and only took it out once Sherlock was complete out of view.

Should I call the number? Should I call Moriarty? Can I do that? What phone would I use? What would it prove? Why would I want to?

The old lady is going to die after the fourth pip. And- what eleven more people died too? Stop him now. If I get Moriarty to turn his attention to me then no one else can get hurt. Maybe no one else will be strapped to a bomb. Maybe I'll die and go back home... Maybe I'll get my real body back... Why am I still in the body of a teenager?

I continue to pace, and I shake my head at all the thoughts flowing through my head. None of all these 'maybes' help me. Right now, I need to keep other people safe. I need to keep Sherlock and John out of trouble, whatever happens to me along the way is damage that doesn't matter. I'm not important, I have no family in this world and my death would mean nothing. The present is what matters- and I need to make a plan.

I walk by the kitchen and glance in, Sherlock is silently rifling through old newspapers and occasionally typing on a laptop. I walk back to the sofa and Sherlock's coat is laying on the coffee table, I rifle through the pockets quietly and pick out all the cash he has. He carries around 220 pounds and I'm really surprised. I guess he needs it to pay his homeless network and cabs. I rifle a bit more, avoiding Sherlock attention and manage to acquire 200 pounds more and stuff it all in to my bra. He pays no mind to me and I walk back to the sofa, and take a heavy book from off the coffee table. Sherlock's only deductions about me right now would purely be based off of sound. Dropping this book on the sofa would sound like me sitting down. Kind of dumb, but I'll do anything to avoid detection. I drop the book on the couch and it makes just the kind of sound I was looking for. I nod absently and take off my shoes silently. I then quietly head down stairs and make it to the bottom without detection.

I open the door to 221B and close it very lightly. Finally outside, I hail a cab and get inside.

"Where to, ma'am?" The cabby looks in the rear-view mirror.

I smile, "I'm new here. Could you just bring me to the nearest mall?"

"You mean a shopping centre? One of the bigger, more popular ones is Westfield... It's about 10 minutes away. Would you like to go there miss?"

"Yes, please."

He nods and we end up heading through London to a shopping mall. Like he said it takes us about 10 minutes to get there, he looks at me curiously when I take the money out of my bra to pay him, but he doesn't comment. I head off into the mall, where it's fairly crowded at this time of day and no one gives me any strange looks. I'm grateful for it, and I go to buy a small backpack, wallet, disposable phone, water bottle, cheap jeans (I can't move around properly in this dress), cheap sneakers, and I manage to steal a clean looking black t-shirt from lost and found. Yes, I'm trying to keep as much money as possible- what do you think I'd just waste it? I even manage to acquire a shower by pick-pocketing someone's gym membership. By the time I'm done I manage to still have around 350 pounds. I always look for bargain prices.

I'm in the shopping centre bathroom an hour and a half later and I look at the new me. My hair hasn't been out for days, because I haven't had time to shower. It's still slightly damp and the wide dark brown curls fall down over my shoulders and slightly cover my face. I adjust the dark blue jeans and black t-shirt. I mindlessly turn around in the mirror and look at my stitches in my back, I nearly forgot they were there. It seems like they're ready to be taken out now. I'll solve that when the time comes. I flip the dull backpack over my shoulder and sigh. Picking up my new cellphone, I type the number from the paper, one I've already memorized.

It rings once, twice, three times. And the phone answers.

A cheery voice comes through earpiece, "**_Hello this is Jim from IT, how may I help you!"_**

"Hello Moriarty, I'd like to make a deal."

* * *

_Time Since John Left: Three hours, Location: Heading Back to 221B. Cab?_

_ Elise: Location: Sofa- possibly Mrs. Hudson. Oh- what does it matter. _

_This person, is being wonderfully un-boring. Nearly Untraceable Poisons: Altropa Belladonna, Aconite, Mercury, Sarin, Amatoxin..._

The door to 221B closes and Sherlock is suddenly thrown out of his trace of thought. But he quickly focuses back on the the task at hand and something comes into focus, "Poison."

"What are you going on about?" Mrs. Hudson questions from behind Sherlock.

He bangs his hands on the table, "Clostridium botulinum!" Mrs. Hudson, leaves the room with a start and John walks in with his coat and tie from seeing Mycroft. Sherlock turns to him, "It's one of the deadliest poisons on the planet... Carl Powers!" Sherlock stands up quickly to shoelaces.

John looks around curiously but manages to give his attention to Sherlock, "What are you saying that he was murdered?"

"Remember the shoelaces? The boy suffered from eczema it would have been the easiest thing in the world to introduce it in his medication. Two hours Pater he comes up to London, the poison takes effect, paralyzes the muscles and he drowns."

John's still glancing around but is still focused, "How come toe autopsy didn't pick that up?"

"It's virtually undetectable and nobody would have been looking for it." He begins to type the answer to the case on his laptop, "But there's still tiny traces of it left inside the trainers from where he put the cream on his feet. That's why they had to go."

"So how do we let the bomber know?" John asks.

"Get his attention. Stop the clock." Sherlock glances at his watch.

John shakes his head, "The killer kept the shoes all these years."

"Yes." Sherlock smiles, "Meaning..."

"...He's our bomber." John answers. Then the pink phone rings. And Sherlock answers.

There's thick sobbing heard on the other end, the same woman from before, "**_Well done, you. Come and get me_**."

"Where are you? Tell us where you are." Sherlock says. The woman rattles off a place while sobbing and Sherlock texts Lestrade the address, then suddenly the signal cuts off and static is heard.

"What's that Sherlock?" John leans over the phone. His brow furrows. And his eyes widen, "Did the bomb go off?"

Sherlock waves his hand, "No- no I don't think so... the bomber wouldn't do that, I solved the puzzle..."

A woman's voice is suddenly heard on the phone. A new one, not crying, just speaking in a monotonous tone, "_**Hello**. **This is an interruption from your sponsor."**_

"Who are you?" Sherlock asks.

**_"A voice on the phone. Your sponsor would like to comment... Why be so boring, Sherlock? She figured it out before you. Much, much, before you. She's so delightfully interesting, Sherlock. She's so fun."_**

"Who? Who are you talking about?"

John interrupt his eyes very wide, "Sherlock..."

"What?!" Sherlock slams his hand on the table.

"Where's Elise?"

_**"Ah. So the doctor has noticed. Quite a weak spot you have there Sherlock... You don't even notice when little genius girl is gone. How sad."** _There's a pause on the line, **_"The Game will continue as normal."_**

The line goes silent and Sherlock looks absently at the table. John turns to him, "We need to talk to Lestrade. We need to fix this-" he paces into the living room, "First she's shot, now she's with a bomber? It's like danger just follows her around." He puts his hand over his head, then look at Sherlock in the kitchen and point at him, "And you-" he growls," And you! Were supposed to be watching her!"

Sherlock shakes his head, "I didn't noti-"

"Didn't notice?_ Didn't notice_. Sherlock, the master of observation, didn't notice the _delusional girl he's responsible for _disappear from the flat. Really? We need to go now, Sherlock. We need to see Lestrade." John puts his coat back on," Text him. We're taking a taxi to Scotland Yard, right now- I don't care how late it is."

Sherlock nods and begins to text Lestrade:

**Elise is missing. Possibly with the Bomber. Heading to Scotland Yard now. -SH**

Sherlock puts on his coat and goes down to where John has already opened the door to the flat and trying to hail a cab. Sherlock puts his hand out and one comes over quickly. His phone buzzes:

**Dr. Holmes? How? -GL**

Sherlock types rapidly on his phone as he sits in the taxi:

**Everything will be explained at Scotland Yard. -SH**

He puts his phone into his pocket and John speaks, "So what do you know about her Sherlock? Really? You haven't given me any in-depth deductions about her yet, but you obviously know more then you let on about her."

"It's safe to assume she left the flat on her own accord."

"What do you mean?"

"Elise suffers from something akin to a mixture between a savior complex and illusory inferiority, she believes everyone else's well being goes above her own and it's her responsibility to save everyone around her. She's a doctor John, like you it's the way she works. So something probably happened because she was trying to 'save' us, or someone else."

John interrupted, "Wait. But why would she think that? How could she even be able to?"

"She's highly intelligent, John. Highly, _highly_, intelligent. Though we also know she's delusional, and I think part of her delusion involves her believing she has foreknowledge of everything. The way she makes deductions, it's without evidence. She also doesn't believe she's a genius, and it seems like she spews facts rather then how she's acquired them, but there's always some reason to think it. I'm unsure how she gets some of her deductions, but I do believe it's observation on a subconscious level. Why she so delusional? I'm unsure, it may possibly be because of her traumatizati-"

The doctor look slightly shocked, "Traumatization? Because she was shot?"

Sherlock shakes his head, "No. It's something more then that- the way she flinches away at you, and me, her obvious anxiety about being touched, the panic attacks, and I've heard her cry multiple times at night. This may be because something's happened to her to cause her delusions. And what my brother said to her..."

"Teachers?"

"Yes, he said that her teachers must have found her a pleasure and she became terrified. She doesn't like authority figures, that much is shown through her treatment of us and Mycroft. Mycroft must have noticed, and came to the conclusion that-"

"Oh no." Johns eyes widen, "Was she?"

"Assaulted, yes." Sherlock looks out the window.

"By her teachers?" John rubs his face and Sherlock nods. "Do we know anything to help find her?"

"We only know her behavior and what she would do, we don't know much else. I'll contact my brother when we get to Scotland Yard to see if she's been caught on any CCTV cameras, or been spotted by anyone. I can also ask him what he knows about her."

The rest of the ride to Scotland Yard is uncomfortable, Sherlock is constantly drumming his fingers against his thigh and thinking. John is looking on the window and shaking his leg rapidly. There's a lot of tension between the two, John is angry at Sherlock for not paying attention to Elise, and Sherlock (though he'd never admit it) feels guilty for it. All of this is then covered with a thick frosting of worry and a healthy dose of panic.

Once they get to the Yard they meet Lestrade, who although looking tired seems determined, "So what's happened?"

"Like I texted, Elise is missing and possibly with the bomber." Sherlock is standing over Lestrade's desk, and Lestrade is sitting down, "It seems like he broke his veil. Something Elise did made his interest split and now he's interested in her as well as me. The woman on the phone who was his 'voice'-"

Lestrade held up his hand, "Another innocent citizen? Some poor bastard strapped to a bomb?"

John answered, "No this person sounded completely calm. Probably someone working for him."

Sherlock nodded, "John's right, this is someone who was trained to do things like this. Definitely not worth our interest. Like I was saying, the woman said that there was a word from 'our sponsor' claiming that Elise found something about before me. Something much, much, before me."

"Does she know who the bomber is?"

"I think she does. She probably noticed something about it, something important, made some kind of connection and figured out who they were." Sherlock smirked, "She's brilliant. Absolutely brilliant."

Inspector Lestrade and Doctor Watson exchanged looks for a moment and turned their attention back to Sherlock.

Lestrade sat up, "Well I have some access to CCTV around your area, but it should take a while. My resources are limited Sherlock. You should call your brother." Lestrade had come into contact with Mycroft when he first met Sherlock, it was immensely intriguing to say the very least.

John's brow furrowed, "You know about his brother?"

"Yeah..."

"Vacant warehouse?" John raised an eyebrow.

Lestrade looked up at him. "...Yes."

"What a dramatic bastard."

Sherlock growled, "It's not the time to talk about my brother. I'm contacting him now." He texts rapidly on his phone. And no sooner then five seconds late his phone is ringing. Sherlock answers the phone on speaker, "You're on speaker phone. What do you have?"

Mycroft's conceited voice escaped the phone, **_"Well you'll be happy to know I've been expected this call. I already have a file ready full of CCTV footage and information regarding Dr. Elise's disappearance and Elise herself. I've emailed Inspector Lestrade the file now." _**Lestrade's phone dings,**_ "I have nothing else of interest to add. Bye Sherlock, have fun locating our... cousin."_**Mycroft hangs up and Lestrade has stood from his desk and gotten a laptop from the room and put it on a table, he's opening the email.

Lestrade looks towards Sherlock, "So... Is Elise actually your cousin, or?"

"Will you have to report it if she wasn't?"

"Yes."

"Then yes, she is my cousin."

Sherlock, John, and Lestrade all crowd around the laptop as a compilation of CCTV footage plays. A flash of a time, a date, and a location shows at the bottom of the screen. It's the front of 221B and Elise is shown hailing a cab and getting in.

"So my deduction was right. She left of her own accord." Sherlock commented.

It changes scenes and it's the front of a shopping centre, big letters 'Westfield' are in bright red. And Elise stuff her hand in her bra and hands over money to the cab driver and walks into the mall.

"Where'd she get all the money?" He seemed hesitant to say the next thing, "I mean- her bra actually kinda looks distorted."

Sherlock suddenly put his hand in his coat and ruffled around before commenting, "All my money is missing from my coat, and I assume she took some more from around the flat as well. That would be around 420 pounds in all. It's a decent amount of money."

The CCTV footage is now simply phasing in and out of Elise in different stores, buying things and such.

Lestrade began to speak, "So she bought a disposable phone, a wallet, a backpack, shoes and-" the video phases into her chatting with a man at a help desk, "And she got a shirt from lost and found."

The video continues on before Sherlock suddenly pauses it, "Look there." He points to Elise in the middle of a crowd of people heading to there stores and such.

"What?" John squints at the video.

Sherlock plays it again and if you look closely you can see Elise snatch something from a man who's dressed in sports shorts, sneakers, and has a gym bag thrown over his shoulder. "See there," He says. "She takes something from him, it looks like some type for card. Gym membership?" He zooms in, "Yes a gym membership. Why would sh-"

"She wanted to take a shower!" John says as Elise walks back out of a gym with wet hair, she then goes up to a security guard talks for a little and hands him the gym card, "And she gave the card back... Huh. Even when committing a crime there's some morals."

"Elise's morals are partially skewed, but they're there. In fact, she often has too many morals." Sherlock comments passingly.

Lestrade shook his head, "Doesn't distract me from the fact she still committed a crime."

"Where's she now?" John asks, the only thing on the screen is a bathroom.

"Probably in the restroom." Sherlock says.

The video phases out, and back in, this time there has been about twenty minutes passed and the low-resolution image shows Elise getting out the bathroom. This time she stands near it and leans on a wall.

"She's waiting for something." Lestrade comments.

Then two men, fairly large, but not enough to garner attention come up to her. They tower over her short figure but she stands up straight and makes herself seem big. She says something, but the pixels don't allow you to read her mouth. They say something back and go up to grab both her arms, but she slaps them both off and says something again. The men's shoulders rise, but then fall and they gesture and say something. Elise nods and begins to go in front of them. Then the video phases out again to a different camera, and they're outside in a parking lot. Elise gets into the backseat of a black vehicle and then they drive out of the camera's view and the video goes black.

"Sherlock... this looks very incriminating. There was no fighting, she obviously wanted to go with them. What do you honestly know about her?" The inspector leveled Sherlock with an honest stare. He wouldn't let him get attached to someone who would betray him. Lestrade knows how sensitive Sherlock can really be, and if he's already fairly attached to John- how attached is he to the young girl?

John quickly interrupted, "Now don't start implying she's somehow in 'leagues' with the bomber. She's not. I _know_ her Lestrade, even if for a short time, she's a genuine person. She may be very secretive... but I don't think she'd do anything to put people she cares about in danger."

"John's right." Sherlock explains. "Elise must have done this to try and protect the people she cares about."

Lestrade sighs and puts his hand over his face, "Sherlock, John..." He looks up "Are you _really_ the people she cares about?"

* * *

"Hello Moriarty, I'd like to make a deal." My voice is level and firm. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of fear.

Jim's voice is still cheery, **_"Who's this?"_**

I laugh, "Did I really make such a _fleeting_ impression?" I'm playing at his own fucking game.

Moriarty's voice suddenly drops several octaves, **_"Doctor Elise Holmes..."  
_**

"You sound disappointed James Moriarty."

**_"Where's Sherlock?"_** I swear Moriarty sounds like some really overly attached partner.

"Not here. I'm in the women's restrooms at a Westfield shopping centre in London."

His voice perks up an octave, **_"SOOOO..."_**he pauses for a moment,_** "What's your deal? You want to save your friends? You'll turn me in if I don't? How absolutely BORING would that be?!"**_

"The only deal I'm making, is that I want to be there. When you make your decisions- I want to be there with you and I want to help." I twist my hair in the mirror of the bathroom.

_**"Help? How strange... What's in it for me?"**_

"You having me, I suppose. Sherlock will be heartbroken and_ you know it_. First, he'll think you took me and- Oh, how sad he'll get!" I make my voice sound sing-songy, I can be like him if I want to. "Then when he thinks I _betrayed_ him. Well..."

**_"It'll burn his heart."_**

"Exactly." Thank god I took all those drama classes in high-school and undergrad... You can pull this off Elise. Just play at his game. You're helping people, influencing Moriarty's decisions will therefore influence the events and you can stop a lot of deaths.

**_"How do I know you're not lying to me? Sherlock's big government brother could be on your tail right now and I wouldn't know."_**

"You don't know..." I take the phone away from my face and breath in deeply, then bring it back, "Though why would I bring the _Iceman_ into it?"

Moriarty voice is no longer playful, **_"How did you know that? I haven't told that to anyone."_** It's threatening. But I need to have this control, without it he'll play me.

"You give all the Holmes's nicknames, Moriarty... The Virgin, The Iceman... What should you give me?"

There's silence on the other line until Jim's voice pipes up again, **_"There will be two men coming to your location in 15 minutes. Say 'Bee Gees' and they'll lead you to a vehicle where you will be brought to an undisclosed location."_**

"Nice doing business with you."

The line goes silent. And I gasp for breath.

It doesn't take long until I get a phone call, it's man's voice, but not Moriarty's: **_"Come out."_**

I leave the bathroom and I lean up against the side door and wait for a bit. After a short time passes I see two, pretty big guys start coming up to me. I suddenly readjust myself and stand up straight. I need to be confident, I need to be like Moriarty. I need to. Then stand over me and I speak, "Bee Gees."

They glance towards each other then go to grab my arms but I slap them off very quickly. I'm not letting some lackeys fucking manhandle me. I can do this on my own. "Don't do that! I'm not some doll to be thrown around." I can see anger building in their eyes but I keep going, "Now tell me where your car is parked and I'll lead the way."

Both they're shoulders rise in frustration but they gesture towards the doors outside of the hallway in the mall. One of them speaks, "We're parked near the south entrance, third car in the fourth row."

I nod and begin to walk away. They follow me and we make it to the parking lot. I get into the back of a black car and close the door. Both men get in front and before we start driving one of them gestures towards a black cloth in the back, "You have to cover your eyes."

I nod again and take the cloth and tie it around my eyes. I'm not putting up a fight if this is what I need to do.

Then we start to drive.

* * *

_So I didn't exactly make it up to 5,000 words. But I did make it up to over four-thousand._

_ Tell me what you think about the turn of events :)_


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